Like Father, Like Son
by Don'tReadMyStories
Summary: This story takes place seventeen years after the crash. Jackson and Melissa are married and have a son. What happened when their son starts messing up his life? Will it hurt the family? Thanks to jelissalover for all your help.
1. Girl From School

*FLASHBACK*

"What are you going to name him?" the doctor asked.

"Uh," Melissa, holding the newborn, looked up at me. "How about...Dallas? Do you like that name, Jackson?"

I bent down to give Melissa a kiss. "I love that name, Mel." Then I kissed the baby.

*END FLASHBACK*

"DJ, it's time for school. Wake up, buddy."

"Dad, I don't wanna go to school today."

"Why not?"

"I'm sick." Dallas coughed.

"C'mon. You can do better than that, can't you?"

"I'm serious."

"Sure you are. You know how many times I tried to pull that when I was little?"

"Did it work?"

*FLASHBACK*

_(29 years ago)_

"Jackson," my dad said, violently shaking my shoulder. "Jackson, get up."

"I can't go to school today."

"Oh, really?"

I shook my head.

"And why is that?"

"I'm sick."

"You're sick?"

I nodded.

My dad stood there, staring at me. "Jackson, get out of bed."

"Dad, I'm sick."

"I don't give a s*** if you're sick! Get up and get your a** to school!" He pulled me out of bed by my shirt and threw me to the floor. "Go!"

*END FLASHBACK*

"No." My voice was barely a whisper. "No, it didn't work."

Dallas groaned.

I'm thirty-four now. I've never been able to forget about what my father's done to me. But now I've leaned to except it…or at least tried to.

"C'mon, DJ. Get up."

"I'm tired."

"So am I."

Dallas was silent.

I gently shook his shoulder. "Dally, c'mon. Please, get up."

There was no answer.

I sighed and stepped out of the room, heading to the kitchen.

Melissa stood at the stove, frying eggs. "Is he up?"

I slumped down onto a chair at the kitchen table. "No. I don't know why he doesn't listen to me anymore."

Melissa turned off the stove, then walked over to me. "Honey, he's a teenager. You remember what you were like as a teenager."

I sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

"I'll go get him up."

I drummed my fingers on the table.

After a while, Melissa walked into the kitchen, followed by a sleepy Dallas.

"You want some eggs, honey?" Melissa said.

"Sure." Dallas took a seat across from me, yawning.

I watched him closely.

He rubbed his eyes, then noticed me looking at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Is there something on my face?"

"No," I said. "No, it's nothing."

Dallas eyed me suspiciously.

"Here's your eggs." Melissa set a plate down in front of him, then grabbed one for each of us.

We ate in silence.

* * *

"See ya, Mom."

"Bye, Dallas."

Dallas stepped outside, letting the screen door slam shut.

I got up, setting the dishes into the sink.

Why didn't Dallas talk to me anymore?

*FLASHBACK*

_(9 years ago)_

"Really? What's her name?"

"Angela."

"What's she like?"

"She nice, and smart, and...pretty."

"Did you talk to her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because Ross started making fun of me."

"He did?"

Dallas nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I don't have the new bike that everyone else has." He changed his position on my knee, turning to face me. "Can I get it?"

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Dally. We just don't have that kind of money."

"Oh." He was disappointed.

I looked at him. "I'll get it for you, baby. I promise."

"Really?!"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Yay!"

*END FLASHBACK*

* * *

"Hey, Mr. Jackson."

"Oh, hey, Angela."

"Angela and I are gonna go study, Dad."

"Okay."

Angela followed Dallas into his room.

* * *

I looked at my watch. 5...4...3...2...1...

The door opened.

Angela stepped out, Dallas following close behind. She stepped in front of the door.

"Bye, Angela," Dallas said, giving her a quick kiss.

"See ya, Dallas. Bye, Mr. Jackson." She waved at me.

"Bye, Angela," I said.

She stepped out the door.

"So, DJ?"

Dallas looked at me. "Yeah?"

"How do you study without any books?" I smirked.

He blushed, walking into his room.

* * *

"'Night, baby." I gave Melissa a kiss.

"Goodnight." She rested her head on my arm, snuggling close to me.

I was deep in thought.

Why doesn't Dallas talk to me anymore? Did I do something? He talks to Melissa. What's wrong with me?

Melissa could sense that something was wrong. "Honey, he's growing up. He doesn't need his parents as much anymore."

"But he talks to you."

She looked at me playfully. "Who wouldn't wanna talk to me?"

I looked at her, chuckling, then kissed her again.


	2. Smoke On The Grill

"Honey, did you get forty dollars out of my purse?"

"No. Why?" I stared at the TV.

"Because it's not in there."

I got up off the couch. "You sure?"

She slammed her purse into the table, turning to me. "Yes, I'm sure. I looked in here three times already. I know I didn't take it out. How are we gonna get groceries? How are we-"

"Mel, calm down. I'll get some money. It's gonna be okay."

________________________________________________________________________

"Hey, Taylor. Hey, Eric."

"Hey, Chief. How you been?"

"Good. What about you?"

"Same. Where's Mel?"

"She's out back, putting something on the grill."

Eric looked at Taylor, rubbing his hands together. "Looks like we came at the right time."

They followed me into the back yard.

"Hey, Mel. What are you making?" Eric said

"Steak."

"Isn't that the guy's job?" Taylor said.

"Jackson can't cook...anything." Melissa said, looking at me.

"I burn her toast one time, and she can't let that go."

"That's because you only made me toast one time."

"Well, I had to figure out how to work your high-tech toaster." I paused. "I still don't know how to work that thing."

Everyone erupted into laughter.

"Ha ha. Very funny." I said. "I can't complain, though. It gives me an excuse to be lazy."

"Hey, Jackson?"

"Yeah, Mel?"

"Can you go get some plates?"

"So much for being lazy," I mumbled, walking into the kitchen.

I opened a cabinet and got out a few plates. Then I smelled something.

It was smoke.

I walked around, following the smell. I stepped out onto the front porch.

"Dallas, what are you doing?"

He looked at me, surprised. "Uh, dad, I...uh..."

"Since when did you start smoking?"

"Um..."

"Where did you get those?"

"I bought them."

"Where did you get the money for them?"

He was silent.

Then I realized something. "Did you take it out of your mom's purse?"

"I, uh..."

I looked at him.

He sighed. "Yeah."

"Give them to me." I held out my hand.

"What?"

"Give them to me."

Dallas sighed after looking at me for a moment, then handed me the pack of cigarettes.

"Go to your room."

He pushed past me. "This is so unfair."

I looked in my hand at the cigarettes, then sighed.

________________________________________________________________________

"The steak is done. Jackson, will you go get Dallas?"

"Uh, sure, Mel."

I walked into the house, heading toward Dallas's room. Stopping outside the door, I knocked. "DJ?"

"What do you want?" he said coldly.

I sighed. "Dinner's ready."

After a minute, Dallas stepped out of his room without even a glance at me. He walked out the back door.

I watched him for a moment, then followed.

________________________________________________________________________

"That was really good, Mel. I wish my wife could cook like that."

"Hey!" Taylor said.

"I guess we better go." Eric stood up.

"See ya," I said.

"Bye," said Mel.

Taylor waved. "Bye, guys. See ya later, Dallas."

Eric and Taylor walked into the house and out the front door.

After they were gone, the phone rang.

"I'll get that," I offered.

"No, I'll get it." Melissa headed inside.

I began to pick up some plates from the table. "DJ, can you help me clean up?"

He didn't answer.

"Dallas?" I said, looking at him.

He stood up and walked into the house.

I sighed, then continued to clean up.

Melissa appeared in the doorway. "Nathan and Daley want us to go to their house for dinner tomorrow. They said Lex will be there."

"Okay."

Melissa looked around. "Where's Dallas?"

I just shrugged, staring down at the plates I was picking up.

She walked back inside.

A minute later, Dallas stepped outside, grabbing a couple dishes from the table, clearly annoyed.

There was a moment of silence, then I set the plates in my hand back onto the table, looking at Dallas. "What did I do to make you so mad at me?"

"Nothing." He didn't look up.

"It's gotta be something since you don't talk to me anymore. You don't-"

"It's nothing! Okay?" He stared at me.

"Yeah. Sure."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Welcome. Come in. Come in." Daley opened the door wider for us to step inside.

"Hey, Melissa. Hey, Jackson." Nathan gave Melissa a hug and shook my hand. "Hey, Dallas. Can you go get Matt for me? He's upstairs in his room."

"Sure." Dallas walked up the stairs.

"Hey, you guys," Lex said.

"Hey, Lex. How you been?" I said.

"Good. What about you?"

"Same here."

"Cool."

When Dallas returned with Matt following behind him, we all headed into the kitchen, then grabbed a plate and took a seat in the dining room.

________________________________________________________________________

"You sure you don't want us to help with the dishes?"

"We're sure, Mel." Nathan led us to the door. "Goodbye."

"Bye," Melissa said.

We walked to the car.

I sat in the driver's seat, Melissa sitting next to me, and Dallas in the back.

"So, Dallas?" Melissa said. "How'd you like dinner?"

"It was good." Then he muttered, "At least I don't have to clean dishes there."

Melissa didn't hear him.

But I did.

I had one hand on the steering wheel, the other tapping above the outside of the open window.

"Bet it was fun having dinner with your best friend," Melissa said.

"Yeah." He mumbled, "He doesn't even have to do the dishes at his own house."

"Dallas, what did I do?!"

Melissa was surprised at my sudden outburst.

Dallas didn't answer.

I gripped the steering wheel with both hands now, knuckles white.

We were silent the rest of the way home.


	3. Door Apologies

**"Dallas, wake up." I gently shook his shoulder. **

**"Five more minutes." **

**"You're gonna be late for school. I'm taking you today." **

**"Take me in later." **

**"I gotta get to work right after I drop you off." **

**"Go in late." **

**"I can't. I've already been late at least five times." **

**There was no response. **

**"Dally?" I shook him gently. "Dallas, c'mon. Get up." **

**His breathing was soft. "Get up, Dallas." **

**He was silent. **

**I sighed. "S***!" **

* * *

**"DJ, get up." **

**Dallas slowly opened his eyes, yawning. **

**"I gotta take you to school now. Get dressed." **

**He slowly sat up. **

**I stepped out of the room, waiting for Dallas to get dressed. **

**A few minutes later, Dallas walked out of the room. **

**"How many minutes do I have to get to school?" **

**"None. You're..." I checked my watch. "...almost twenty minutes late." **

**He headed to the car. **

**I followed behind him. **

* * *

**I slumped onto the couch. **

**"Jackson, what's wrong?" **

**"Mel..." **

**"Yeah?" **

**"I...I got fired." **

**"What?!" **

**"Mel, it'll be okay." **

**"No, it won't, Jackson. How are we gonna pay the bills? How are we gonna-" **

**"Mel, calm down." **

**"How am I supposed to calm down?! We can't-" **

**"Mel, I-" **

**"Jackson, how could you be so careless?! How could you-" **

**"Mel! Mel, I'm sorry. I'll get the money. I promise." **

* * *

**"Thanks, Nathan. I promise I'll pay you back when I get the money." **

**"No problem." **

**I was about to walk out the door, then turned back to Nathan. "Um, could you, like...not tell Mel about this?" **

**He hesitated. "Okay." **

**"Thank you so much, Nathan. I owe you one." **

**"Bye, Jackson." **

**"See ya, man." **

* * *

**"Where did you get this money?" **

**"I, uh..." **

**"Jackson! Where did you get it?!" **

**I sighed, then quietly spoke. "I borrowed it from Nathan." **

**"What?!" **

**"Mel, I-" **

**"I thought you were gonna find another job!" **

**"I was." I quickly corrected myself. "I am. But-" **

**"You can't just borrow money from people, Jackson! You can't-" **

**"Then what the h*** was I supposed to do, Mel?!" **

**She was quiet, then turned and hurried into the room, tears falling from her eyes. **

**I sighed. "Mel...Mel, I-" **

**The door slammed shut. **

**"S***!" **

* * *

**"Mel?" I tried to turn the knob but couldn't, so I knocked on the door. "Mel, honey, I'm sorry." **

**It's been about one hour since I yelled at her. **

**She was still crying. **

**"I didn't mean to yell at you, Mel. I'll give the money back to Nathan if that's what you want." **

**She didn't answer. **

**I knocked on the door again. "Baby, will you please let me in?" **

**I could hear her in the same place as she was before. **

**"C'mon, Mel. Open the door. Please." **

**She didn't say anything. **

**"Can you please forgive me? I didn't mean to." **

**This approach obviously wasn't working. **

**"I promise I'll give the money back to Nathan." **

**There was still no answer. **

**I sighed. "Mel, I didn't mean to yell at you. What can I say? I'm a jerk. I'm really, really sorry, baby. Just...please, open the door." **

**I heard footsteps coming toward the me. **

**Melissa cracked the door open a bit. **

**Her eyes were watery. There were red streaks on her cheeks. **

**"Jackson?" **

**"Yeah, baby?" **

**"Will you please just leave me alone for a while?" **

**I was silent for a moment. Then I spoke, barely audible. "Sure, Mel. I'll leave you alone." I turned, walking to the couch, my head low. **

**Melissa gently shut the door. **

**I slumped onto the couch, resting my elbows on my knees, my hands on the back of my neck. **

**I hope Melissa forgives me. **

* * *

**I woke up on the couch, the bright sunlight shining through the windows. **

**I sat up, rubbing my eyes, then walked to the room. **

**"Mel?" I lightly knocked on the door. "Mel, baby? You awake?" **

**The door opened a bit. **

**I heard shuffling from inside. After a moment, I pushed it wider and stepped into the room. **

**Melissa was laying on the bed. **

**I rubbed the back of my neck nervously, then sat next to her. "Mel, I-" **

**"It's okay, Jackson." **

**"No. No, it's not, Mel." I sighed, unable to meet her eyes. "I promise I'll give Nathan the **

**money back. I didn't mean to yell at you, Mel. I was stupid. I wasn't thinking. I don't why I did it or what came over me. And I am really, really...really sorry, Mel. Please, forgive me for being such an a**." **

**She gently grabbed my hand. **

**I turned to her. **

**"I forgive you, Jackson." **


	4. Job Search

**"Jackson, do you have twenty dollars so I can put some gas in the car?" **

**"Uh..." I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket, looking inside.. "...I only got a ten. You want that?" **

**"Sure." **

**I handed Melissa the bill and put the wallet back in my jean's pocket. **

**She stood there. **

**I look at her. "Baby, what is it?" **

**Tears started falling from her eyes. "How are we gonna do this?" **

**"Do what? Baby, what's wrong?" **

**"How are we gonna live? We don't have any money." She took a seat on the couch. "I never should have quit my job." **

***FLASHBACK* **

**"I'm tired of working. It is stressing me out." **

**"Then why don't you quit?" **

**"What? I can't quit." **

**"I work. Plus, we'll have enough money after my music career takes off." **

**"Jackson, that's crazy." **

**"No, it's not, Mel. You're always so tired after you come in from work. I hate seeing you like that. Quit." **

***END FLASHBACK* **

**"Mel, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." I sat down next to her. "I just...thought my music career would work. I shouldn't have told you to quit." **

**She just sat there, silently weeping. **

**"I'm looking for a job, Mel. I'm gonna get one." I took her hands, looking straight into her eyes. "I promise, Mel. We'll make it through this."**

* * *

**"Yes, sir." **

**"You start Monday." **

**"Thank you, sir." **

**I hung up the phone. **

**Melissa sat on the couch, unable to contain her excitement. "What'd he say?" **

**"I got the job, Mel." **

**"Yes!" She jumped up and into my arms. **

* * *

**"DJ, it's time for school." **

**There was no answer. **

**I shook his shoulder gently. **

**"DJ?" I said. **

**"What?" **

**"Time for school." **

**"I'm tired." **

**"So am I." **

**"Go to sleep." **

**"I gotta go to work." **

**"Skip today." **

**"Dallas, I can't do that. I just got this job." **

**"Get a new one." **

**"I barely got this one. Please, get up." **

**"No." **

**"Please." **

**"Leave me alone." **

**How am I supposed to get him up. He won't listen to me. I don't know what else to do. **

***FLASHBACK* **

_**(28 years ago)**_

**"Jackson, get up." **

**"I'm sleepy." **

**"Get up!" **

**"I don't want to go to school." **

**"I don't care what you want! Get the f*** up! Now!" **

**"No." **

**"Get up!" He yanked my hair, pulling me to the floor. **

**I hit the ground. **

**My father started kicking my side. **

**"Daddy, stop it! Stop! That hurts!" I tried to get up. "I'm going! I'm getting up! Stop! Ahh!" **

***END FLASHBACK* **

**I will never be like my father. I can't do that. But what am I supposed to do? **

**"Please, get up." **

**"No." **

**"Dally, please!" **

**"No." **

**"Get up, Dallas! Now!" **

**"No!" **

**I walked out of the room and into another, then gently sat on the bed, leaning over Melissa. **

**"Mel," I whispered. "Honey, wake up." **

**She groaned. "What do you want, Jackson?" **

**"Mel, I can't get Dallas to get up." **

**She sighed, then, after a minute, sat up, heading toward another room. **

**"Mel, baby, I'm so sorry to wake you up." **

**She continued down the hall, then walked into Dallas's room. **

**I watched from the doorway, wondering how she manages to get him to wake up. **

**"Dallas, get up." **

**"Five more minutes, Mom." **

**"Dallas, if you don't get up right now, you'll be grounded." **

**Dallas hesitated for a moment before getting up. **

**Melissa headed for our room. **

**"Honey, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." **

**She stepped into the room without a word to me. **

**I sighed, then mumbled to myself. "And now she's mad at me...again. Perfect." **


	5. Hearing The Fight From The Phone

"Melissa wants me to give it back."

Nathan took the money from my hand. "She found out?"

"Yeah." I was quiet for a minute.

Nathan could tell I had other things on my mind. "What's up?"

I sighed. "I don't know what going on with DJ these days. He doesn't talk to me anymore."

"He's growing up."

I looked at him, quiet for a moment. "I caught him smoking a couple days ago. He took the money from Mel's purse to buy cigarettes."

"How can he get cigarettes? He's only fifteen."

"There are ways." I remembered how I used to have someone that was the legal age to buy me cigarettes when I was DJ's age.

Nathan was quiet for a moment. "Why don't you try talking to him?"

"I did. He won't listen to me."

"What if I talk to him for you?"

"Really? You would?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Thanks, man. I owe you one...uh, another one, I mean."

"Don't mention it."

_______________________________________________________________________

"I'll get it." I walked to the door. "Lex? What's up?"

"Nothing much. What about yourself?"

"Same here." I waved him into the house. "Come in."

"Thanks." He stepped inside.

"Hey, Lex," Melissa called from the kitchen.

"Hey, Mel."

"I'm almost finished with dinner. Wanna stay and join us?"

"Sure. I'd love to."

Lex and I took a seat at the kitchen table.

"So I hear you have a new job."

"Yeah. I got fired from the other ones."

"Dinner's ready," Melissa said.

"I'll get DJ." I walked to his room, then knocked on the door. "DJ?"

His tone was cold. "What?"

I sighed, turning the knob, and stepped into the room.

"Can't you knock?" he snapped.

"Um, I thought I did." I looked at the door, confused, then back at Dallas.

"Well that doesn't give you the right to just walk in here."

"Look, Dallas. Can you please just tell me what I did to make you so mad at me?"

He didn't answer me.

"Dallas, please."

"Can you leave me alone?"

He obviously wasn't going to tell me now.

I sighed. "Dinner's ready."

He got up off the bed and headed to the kitchen.

I followed behind him, then took a seat at the table.

"Hey, Dallas. How are you doing?" Lex said.

"I'm great. Thanks."

Am I the only one that he's mean to? Why doesn't he just tell me what I did?

________________________________________________________________________

"Angela and I are gonna go study in my room."

"Sure you are," I mumbled, smirking.

Neither of them heard me.

They headed into his room.

_______________________________________________________________________

I looked at my watch. 5...4...3...2...1...

The door didn't open.

I counted again, wondering if my watch was wrong. 5...4...3...2....1...

The door was still closed.

I was about to knock on it when the telephone rang.

I picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Jackson."

"Hey, Nathan. S'up?"

"I was gonna come by to talk to Dallas today."

"Okay."

"I'll be..."

I zoned out, hearing a noise. Listening harder, I could tell it was a moan.

"...minutes. I gotta stop by and pick-"

"Hold on a second, Nathan." Without waiting for a reply, I walked to Dallas's room,

knocking. "Dallas," I said. "Dallas, it's time for Angela to leave."

After a moment, Angela opened the door, rushing past me.

I could see her lipstick was smeared, a button on her shirt undone.

She quickly walked out door.

I turned back to Dallas. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing," he said defensively.

"That sure didn't look like nothing!"

"Well, it was."

"Dallas, you are to young to be having sex with girls."

"We didn't have sex!"

I considered this for a moment. "You promise?"

"Yes," he said. "Yes, of course."

I sighed. "I don't want you closing this door anymore when she's here."

"What?! Why?!"

"It's that, or you two have to stay on the couch when she comes over."

"We didn't do nothing!"

"I don't care. You're lucky I don't ground you."

"This isn't fair."

"It isn't? You've been disrespectful. You've stolen money from your mom's purse to buy cigarettes. You've-"

"He did what?!"

I turned to see Melissa.

She wasn't supposed to hear all that.

I tried to calm her down. "Mel-"

"You stole money from my purse?! And smoked?!"

"Mom, I can explain," Dallas said. "I-"

"You know we don't have a lot of money. And you stole it to buy cigarettes?!"

"Mel, that was only once. He hasn't done it anymore." I looked at Dallas. "Right, DJ?"

He nodded quickly.

Melissa hesitated. "You're grounded for one week."

"But, Mom-"

"I don't wanna hear it!" Melissa turned to me. "You lied to me, Jackson."

"I'm sorry. I was just...I…"

She walked into our bedroom.

"Mel..."

Melissa closed the door.

Dallas glared at me. "Thanks a lot, Dad."

"DJ, I-"

The door slammed in my face.

I looked down, walking back into the living room, then took a seat on the couch. I rubbed my neck, then noticed the phone off the hook. I rushed to it.

"Nathan? You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I'm so sorry, Nathan. I forgot that-"

"It's okay, Jackson."

After a silent moment, I said, "You heard?"

Nathan was quiet for a moment before saying, "Yeah."

I looked to the floor.

"Look. I'll be over there in a couple minutes, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Bye."

"See ya."


	6. Not So Ashamed

"What are these?!" Melissa looked at Dallas, who was sitting next to me on the couch.

Dallas didn't answer.

"Are you still smoking?!"

"Mom-"

"What is wrong with you?!"

I couldn't let Dallas get in trouble again. Besides, he told me he'd stop. And it was my fault Mel found them. I left them in the drawer of the dresser.

"Mel, they're mine."

"What?!"

I looked up at her.

She was standing over me, furious.

"They're mine."

"Jackson, you know we're tight on money! How could you?!"

"Mel, baby, I'm sorry. I-"

"Don't call me 'baby.' I can't believe you!" She threw the pack of cigarettes onto my lap and stormed off into the room.

Dallas didn't say a word.

I looked down at the pack of cigarettes.

________________________________________________________________________

I sat on the couch, thinking.

Why is Dallas so mad at me? Am I doing something wrong? Because I'll stop if I am. I just want him to talk to me again.

There was a knock at the door.

I got up, heading to it. I opened it to find Nathan. "Hey, man."

"Hey, Jackson."

"Thank you so much for coming."

"No problem. I brought Daley. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all."

"She's good with talking to people."

"Cool. Come in."

They stepped inside.

"Hey, Daley," I greeted.

"Hey, Jackson." She looked around. "So where's Dallas?"

"He's in there. Follow me." I started walking to Dallas's room.

Daley and Nathan followed behind me.

I knocked on the door. "DJ?"

"Leave me alone."

I looked at Nathan and Daley, then turned back and knocked on the door again.

"Dallas, there's someone here to see you."

I heard a sigh, then footsteps coming toward the us.

Dallas opened the door, seeing me. "What?" He looked over at Nathan and Daley. "Oh, hi, Mr. and Mrs. McHugh."

"Uh, Dallas?" Nathan said. "Can we talk to you?"

"Sure." Dallas opened the door wider for us to walk inside.

We stepped into the room.

Dallas took a seat on his bed. "So what'd you wanna talk to me about?"

Nathan was the first to speak. "Dallas, your father told us what you've been doing."

Dallas didn't respond.

Daley said, "You should be ashamed of yourself. You need to treat your father with respect."

Dallas hung his head. After a moment, he said, "I'm sorry, Dad."

"It's okay, Dally," I said.

"I won't do it anymore."

"Well," Nathan said. "I guess we better go."

"Alright."

"Bye, Dallas," Daley said.

"Bye."

I followed Nathan and Daley out the door.

"Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."

"Any time," Daley said, walking outside.

"Bye, Jackson." Nathan followed Daley.

"See ya."

I stood there for a moment.

"You told on me?!"

I turned to see Dallas. "Dally, I-"

"I can't believe you!"

"DJ, I thought you-"

He stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him.


	7. Burn

"Hey, Jackson."

"Hey, Nathan."

"I'm making dinner tomorrow. Everyone's coming. You, Mel, and Dallas wanna come?"

"Sure."

"Great."

"You can cook?"

Nathan chuckled, thinking that I was making a joke. "Bye, Jackson." He hung up.

_______________________________________________________________________

"What are you doing?" Melissa looked around the kitchen.

There were bowls all over the countertops. Open packages lay all over, food spilling from them. The refrigerator door and random cabinets and drawers were open.

Frustrated, I was slumped onto a chair, resting my head on a hand, an elbow on the table. "Mel, I gotta serious problem."

"What?" She said worriedly.

"I can't cook."

After a moment, she broke into laughter.

"What's so funny?"

Her laughter became louder.

"What?"

She finally stopped. "That's your serious problem?"

"Well, yeah."

She pulled my arm, dragging me to the other side of the small kitchen. "Let's start with the basics."

"Okay…"

She pointed. "This is a refrigerator."

"I'm very familiar with the refrigerator."

"Okay. Good. So next we have the stove."

_______________________________________________________________________

"And you said I couldn't cook." I stirred the cake mix around in the bowl.

She wiped some of the cake mix from my cheek, licking her finger afterwards. After a moment, she said, "Tastes okay."

"Okay? Just okay?" I picked her up, the set her onto the counter, next to a pot that contained chili that she was teaching me how to cook.

She looked at me, wiping her hands on a washcloth.

I leaned in, kissing her.

Melissa kissed back. After a moment, she carelessly dropped the washcloth and put her hand on my cheek, then quickly pulled it away, now with cake mix dripping from it.

We both laughed, but never pulled apart.

She wiped the mix onto my shirt sleeve.

I put my hands on her waist.

Melissa wrapped her hands around my neck.

After a minute, someone cleared his voice.

Melissa and I abruptly broke apart, turning to see Dallas, his arms crossed, staring at us.

Melissa hurriedly jumped off the counter.

"DJ…" I said.

He just turned, walking into his room.

Melissa and I exchanged glances.

"Uh..." She was at a loss of words.

"Awkward," I said.

Suddenly, the fire alarm went off.

I turned quickly to see the washcloth on top of a burning pot. "S***!"

Melissa froze, panicked.

I quickly turned off the stove, reaching for the lid. I put my hand over the stove, placing the lid onto the pot, burning my arm in the process. "F***!"

The fire quickly stopped.

I took my attention off the stove, looking at my arm.

Melissa, now out of her trance, took my arm, observing it. She gently touched it.

I clenched my teeth, wincing.

"I think you should go get that checked at a hospital."

"No, Mel. I'll be okay."

"Come on, Jackson. You need to-"

"Mel, I'm fine." I knew we didn't have the money to pay a hospital bill.

"But you really-"

"Mel, no. It's just a small burn. I'm a big boy. I'll live."

She sighed, giving in. "Well, you should at least wrap your arm in something. Come here." She headed into the bathroom.

I followed her. When I appeared in the doorway, I found Melissa rummaging through the medicine cabinet.

"Here it is." She pulled out a bandage, then motioned for me to come closer.

I walked over, still gripping my arm.

"Let me wrap your arm in this."

"Mel-"

"It's this, or the hospital."

I sighed.

She gently pulled my arm toward her. "Now this might sting a little."

I looked at her, my voice conceited. "Mel, I think I can handle it."

She smirked. "Okay." Melissa began wrapping my arm tightly.

I squeezed my eyes together and bit my lip, trying hard not to scream out.

Paying me back for my cockiness toward her, Melissa yanked the wrap tighter.

"Ahh! S***, Mel!" I bit down harder, causing my lip to bleed.

"There," she said. "All done."

I slowly relaxed my muscles, then wiped the blood from my lip.

"Did I hurt you?" Melissa played innocent.

"Not at all."


	8. Under The Hood

"Jackson!" Taylor exclaimed. "What did you do to your arm?"

I looked at the wrap. "Oh, uh, I kinda burnt it."

"Kinda?" Eric said.

I ignored him.

"How?" asked Lex, concerned.

Melissa spoke up. "Attempting to cook. He caught the chili on fire."

"Me?! That was not my fault," I said defensively.

"Oh yeah?"

I nodded.

"Then who's fault was it?"

"Well…uh…"

"Exactly." Melissa was satisfied.

Everyone laughed.

Dallas's voice broke into the laughter. "You know what they did before that?"

The room was silent.

Melissa glared at him.

Dallas got her message. "They baked a cake…to go with the chili. That's not a great match."

Melissa and I relaxed.

Nathan's expression was amused. "They? As in Jackson and Melissa? Melissa and…Jackson?"

Dallas smirked.

"Jackson, you can bake a cake?!" Eric said, a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah. It tasted pretty amazing."

"The middle fell in," Melissa informed everyone.

"So?" I said. "It still tasted good."

Everyone burst into laughter.

_______________________________________________________________________

"We'll see you guys later." Nathan waved.

"Bye, you guys" Mel said.

We walked to the car.

I opened the door for Dallas and Melissa to get inside, then walked around to the other side of the car, taking the driver's seat. I put the key in the ignition, then turned it.

Nothing happened.

I turned again.

Still nothing.

Dallas was irritated. "Why aren't we moving?"

"The car won't start."

"What?!" Melissa said.

"Hold on a sec." I pulled a handle near the floor to pop the hood, then stepped out of the car, heading to the front. I slid my hand under the small, one-inch opening in the hood, pushing in the hood latch.

The hood opened wider.

"Car trouble?"

I turned to see Nathan walking toward me.

"Yeah." I inspected what was under the hood.

Nathan was standing beside me now. "Need any help?"

"Could you crank the car for a second?"

"Sure." Nathan headed inside the car, then turned the ignition.

I looked inside the hood, searching for the problem. "Okay, Nathan. That's good."

Nathan stopped, then walked to the front of the car, next to me. "Find the problem?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

I explained. "The screw on the clamp connecting the cable wire and starter to the battery post is loose. So the battery won't work, which causes the car to not be able to crank."

"Uh-huh…" He nodded his head slowly.

I could tell that he had no idea what I was talking about.

I waved my hand toward the starter, then used my finger to follow the cable wire. "The starter doodad has to be connected to the battery thingamajig using that wire doohickey."

Nathan started to understand. "Okay…"

"So all I have to do is tighten that screw."

"Oh," Nathan said. "I get it. That screw…" He pointed to the screw, then to the clamp on the battery post. "…isn't tight, causing the clamp thingamabob to be loose on that thingy. So then that thingy connecting them to the other thingy isn't passing the power along."

"Exactly."

"Well, I don't really know a whole lot about cars."

"Yeah." I tightened the screw, then wiped my hand on my pants. "I've noticed."

"So where did you learn so much about them?"

"You know that video diary of mine that Eric played a long time ago when we were stuck on that island?"

"About that guy that got stabbed the night before we left? I remember."

"Yeah, well, I was at a church where-"

"A church?" Nathan looked at me, surprised. "You never really looked like the church type."

"Well, the guy there, Big Jay, would let people like me work on cars. Then he'd teach us about religion."

"Oh, so that's how you learned so much about cars."

"Yeah. I went there for three years."

"Wow. Bet you were pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah. I-"

A car honk interrupted me.

I looked around the hood to see Dallas reaching over the front seat.

"He still hasn't stopped?"

"No. Ever since you and Daley talked to him, he's gotten worse."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Na-"

There was another honk.

I looked down, rubbing the back of my neck, then exhaled.

"Uh, I'll go crank the car again." Nathan headed to the front seat. After a moment, he turned the key.

It didn't work.

Nathan tried some more.

Still nothing.

I sighed.

All of a sudden, the car cranked.

My head bolted up. "Thank you," I whispered.

Nathan headed toward me. "Well, I guess I'll see you later." He walked toward his house.

"Yeah," I called after him. "See ya, man."

I shut the hood, then got back into the car.

"What took you so long?" Dallas's voice was cold.

"I had to fix the car," I said defensively. "Buckle up."

Dallas didn't move.

"Dallas, buckle up."

He stayed still.

Melissa looked at me, knowing how I felt about Dallas not listening and talking to me anymore. She turned to Dallas, then sternly said, "Dallas, listen to your father."

Dallas hesitated before buckling his seatbelt.

I pulled the car out of the driveway, heading home.


	9. Not Good Enough

"Dallas, come here."

Dallas opened the door to his bedroom, coming into the living room. "Yeah, Mom?"

Melissa held up a piece of paper. "You got a thirty-two on your math test?!"

"Well, uh…"

"Why did you throw this is the trashcan?"

"Um…"

"How could you get a thirty-two on a test?!"

"Mel, lighten up a bit," I said.

I didn't like seeing people being yelled at. It always reminded me of my father.

"Jackson, how is he gonna get into college with this kind of grade?"

"He'll do better on the next one." I looked at Dallas. "Right, DJ?"

He nodded. "I promise."

Melissa hesitated before saying, "Alright. But if you get another failing grade, you'll be grounded for a week."

"Okay," he said.

Melissa looked at him.

Dallas corrected himself. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"I'm gonna go get some groceries. I'll be back later." Melissa held the door halfway open, about to walk out.

I got up off the couch, heading toward her. "Alright, baby. Bye." I kissed her.

"Bye." She walked out the door.

I turned to take a seat on the couch when I heard a noise from Dallas's room. I walked over to the door, knocking. "DJ?"

I heard a small whimper.

"DJ, open the door." I tried to turn the knob.

There was a crash and a small cry.

"Dallas!" I pounded on the door with my fist. "Open the door!"

Dallas yelled out in pain.

"Dallas! Dallas, c'mon! "Let me in!" I could hear him crying now. "Dallas! Please, just open the door!"

He wouldn't answer.

Frustrated, I kicked the door. "D***it, Dallas! Open this f***ing door right now!"

Dallas was screaming.

"Dallas, c'mon!" I rammed the door a couple of times before getting it open.

I looked for Dallas but couldn't see him. I heard his screaming and ran to the other side of the bed.

Dallas lay on the floor, wrists bleeding. He was shaking. A pocketknife lay close by.

"Dallas!" I got down onto the floor next to him, pulling him into my arms, tears forming in my eyes. "Dallas, what are you doing?!"

He didn't answer.

"What were you thinking?!"

"I'm never good enough for you and Mom. You guys always yell at me. And I can't do this. I can't." Dallas was rambling on and on.

"Dally, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I…I'm sorry."

"Dad, I can't feel my arms."

"Okay, um…" What do I do? "Hold on, okay?"

"Okay."

I gently set him down, then quickly grabbed the phone on the nightstand, dialing a number.

It rang.

"C'mon. C'mon. Pick up," I said frantically.

After a few more rings, someone answered. "Hello?"

"Daley?" I was expecting Nathan, but Daley was just as good as anybody. I spoke fast. "Dallas cut his wrists. He needs help. I don't know what to do. I can't-"

"Jackson, calm down."

I exhaled shakily. "Daley, what do I do?"

"Okay. You have to put pressure on the cut. Get a towel. And make sure you keep his arm elevated so the blood will run slower. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay." I put the phone on the hook, then hurried onto the bathroom, grabbing a towel. I ran back to Dallas's side.

"Dad, I don't feel good."

"It's gonna be okay, Dally." I pulled Dallas into my lap.

He leaned his head on chest.

I bent his arm toward his heart, elevating it, then put the towel on the wound, baring down a bit to keep pressure on it.

"Dad, it hurts."

I leaned back against the bed, squeezing my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. I rubbed his back soothingly. I spoke softly, comforting him.

"Dad, I'm sorry."

I was surprised by his words. My voice was barely a whisper. "Me, too."

We were silent for a while until Dallas spoke again. "Dad?"

"Yeah, Dally?"

He was quiet for a moment, then he said, "I love you."

The tears fell. "I love you, too, Dally."


	10. Memory On My Arm

"He just needs a little rest."

I sat in a chair, my leg shaking up and down uncontrollably. My head rested on my hands, my elbows on my knees.

"He'll be fine," Daley reassured me. "Do you want me to stay here a while?"

"No. That's okay." I stood up, unexpectedly giving her a hug. "Thank you."

She was caught off guard at first, then put her arms around me, rubbing my back.

Tears fell from my eyes and streaked down my cheeks.

After a while, we broke apart.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and sniffled. "Thank you so much, Daley. And if you ever need anything from me, just let me know, and I'll get it. Or if you want me to do anything, I'll do it. Just tell me. I promise.

"I'll see you later, Jackson." She headed out the door.

I sat back down into the chair, resuming my previous position. I looked over at Dallas.

He lay on the bed, sleeping. His face was calm, his expression peaceful. I looked at his arm, seeing multiple scratches.

My breathing became heavy.

*FLASHBACK*

_(28 years ago)_

"Stop wiggling!"

"Daddy, don't!" I struggled to get free of his grip.

"Hold still, d***it!" He exhaled, the cigarette smoke blowing in my face.

"Please, Daddy. Stop! I promise I'll be good."

"You have to be punished. Now quit moving!" He held my arm to the table.

I couldn't pull away. "I won't do it anymore. I promise."

"Cody! Shut up! Stop struggling!" He grasped the pocketknife in his hand, poking the end into my arm. He dragged it across my skin.

"Ahhhh! Daddy, please! Please, stop!"

"Cody, shut the f*** up!" He continued, drawing.

"Ahhhhh! Let me go!"

He stuck the knife deeper into my arm as he wrote.

After a minute, he stopped, but never dropped my arm. He picked up his alcohol, pouring

it onto my arm.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Stop it! It hurts, Dad!"

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth.

"Daddy, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you drop your drink. I won't do it again. I'm really sorry! Please, Daddy! Stop!"

He flicked the cigarette to test it, then put it to my skin.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Daddy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm the worst son ever. But I'll change. I promise." I was in tears now. "Daddy, you're hurting me!"

"I don't give a s***!"

After a while of crying and begging, he stopped, then pushed me hard to the ground.

I hit the floor, grabbing my stinging arm.

"Now clean up that mess, Cody!" He pointed to the kitchen floor where he'd thrown his drink after I'd asked him if he would make me a sandwich.

I just sat there, trembling.

"Cody! Get off your a** and clean that f***ing mess up!"

I couldn't stop myself from crying.

He started at me, clenching his fists.

I stared at him in horror, my breathing heavy. I scooted backwards, trying to get away.

He was getting closer.

I turned to run, pushing myself to my feet.

Before I could get away, he yanked me into the air by the back of my shirt, choking me while carrying me to the drink spill.

I kicked my feet, trying to get down.

When we approached the spill, he dropped me into the middle of it.

I landed on my hands and knees.

He pushed my head inches from the alcohol.

I breathed through my mouth because I didn't like the smell.

"Do you see this mess you made?"

I nodded quickly. "Yeah."

My father violently forced my head closer.

"Yes, sir," I corrected.

"Did you clean it up?"

"No, sir.

He stomped his foot, splashing the alcohol onto my face. "Didn't I tell you to clean this up?"

"Yes, sir."

"How many times did I tell you?"

"Two, sir."

"How many times should I have to tell you?"

"None, sir."

"So what are you gonna do right now?"

"Clean up this mess."

He cleared his throat.

"Sir," I quickly added.

He let go of my shirt. Before walking to get another beer, he kicked me onto my side.

I forced myself up, my clothes and part of my hair soaked.

"Oh, and, Cody?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If you put some of that alcohol on your cuts, it will lessen the pain."

"Thank you, sir." I cupped my hands quickly scooped up as much as possible in my hand, then poured it onto my arm. "Ahhhh!"

"Oh, did I say lessen the pain? I meant hurt even more. Oops. Silly me. I'm sorry," he lied.

"That's okay, sir." I knew he wasn't sorry, but, if I didn't say this, I'd get beat even more.

I stared into the liquid, seeing myself. I watched as a tear fell from my eye and landed on

my reflection's eye, stuck with me forever.

*END FLASHBACK*

I looked at my arm, reading what was scarred into it.

It said, "Worst son = my b****."

I put my head in my hands, sobbing.

_______________________________________________________________________

"Jackson? Dallas? I'm home."

I opened my eyes, finding myself in Dallas's room.

I looked at him to make sure he was okay, then headed into the kitchen.

"Hey, Jackson." Melissa leaned in for a kiss.

Absent-mindedly, I kissed her.

Melissa looked me closely. "What's wrong, Jackson?"

"Uh, Mel…"

"Yeah?"

"Well…"

"Uh-huh…"

"Don't freak out, okay?"

"Jackson, what happened?"

"After you left earlier today…Dallas cut his wrists."

"What?!" She stormed toward his room.

I grabbed her arm, twisting her around. "Mel, he needs to rest."

"But-"

"He's gonna be okay. Daley came over and checked on him."

"Why would he do that? What was he thinking?"

"I don't know, Mel."

Anger filled her voice. "Why didn't you stop him?"

"I tried, but he wouldn't-"

"Listen to you?"

"Mel-"

"I'm tired of that excuse. If you'd try hard enough, he'd listen. It's getting old, Jackson. You can't use that forever. It's about time you toughen up and show your kid who's boss. A father is supposed to be close to his kid, but also have the kid's respect. And right now, you don't have any of that. You're nothing like a father, Jackson."

I was hurt by Mel's words. I was speechless, standing there, staring at the floor.

After a moment, Melissa realized what she'd said. "I'm sorry, Jackson. That didn't come out right. I was just-"

"No, Mel. You're right." I sat down onto a chair in the kitchen, leaning my head on one of my hands, an elbow on the table. "I'm nothing like a father. I don't know why he doesn't respect and talk to me anymore. But I'm really trying to get him to listen to me." I looked at my arm. "It's just that…every time he disobeys me, I don't know what to do." I was quiet for a moment. "Mel, I don't wanna be like my father."

"Oh, Jackson, I'm so sorry." She sat in the chair next to me, taking my hand from under my chin and stretching my arm toward her. "I didn't know, I…" Her voice trailed off as she saw the scar on my arm.

I closed my eyes, sighing as she read it.

I'd tried to keep it a secret for so long. And now the truth comes out.

"That's not a tattoo that you tried to get taken off is it?!"

I opened my eyes. "No, Mel. It-"

"Then what is it, Jackson?! Dallas is not a bad kid!"

"That's not what it is, Mel."

"Well, tell me what it is!"

I sighed. "Mel, when I was little…"

"Yeah?"

"When I was little, Mel, I was abused." I nodded my head toward the scar. "My…dad cut me when I was little, then used a cigarette to burn this into my skin."

Tears formed in her eye. "Oh, Jackson. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I thought it was about Dallas. I wasn't-"

"It's okay, Mel."

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why did he do that to you?"

"It doesn't matter, Mel."

"Yes, it does," she snapped.

"I don't remember."

She eyed me, suspicious. "You're lying to me."

"Mel-"

"Why did he do that, Jackson?!"

I sighed, closing my eyes, then opened them when I spoke, my voice barely audible. "Because I asked him to make me a sandwich."

She was heartbroken. "What else did he do to you?"

I didn't answer.

"C'mon, Jackson. You can tell me."

I gave in, telling her everything I could remember about my father hurting me.

*FLASHBACK*

_(27 years ago)_

"Take this plate to the sink for me, Cody."

I got up off the couch, heading to where my father sat at the kitchen table. "Yes, sir."

"It's your night to do the dishes."

"It always is," I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, sir."

He eyed me closely as I took the plate toward the counter.

I set the dish inside the sink, then walked back to the table, taking a seat across from my father. "Uh, dad?"

"What, Cody?"

"Well, it's been a week since I've had dinner so am I off restriction?"

He thought for a moment. "Yeah."

"Thank you, Dad."

He gulped down his drink.

I observed him, remembering how he used to be before he became an alcoholic.

He noticed we watching him. "What are you looking at?"

"Dad? Do you remember how you used to be? Before you started drinking? Before Mom died?"

He erupted into anger, slapping my face. "Don't you ever mention her in this house again! You hear me?!"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. But do you remember what you used to be like?"

"No. How did I used to be, Cody?"

"Well, you used to play with me, and watch TV with me, and take me to the park. You were so nice to me back then."

He kicked my chair hard from under the table.

I fell backwards, hitting my head on the floor.

"What are you saying, Cody? I'm not nice to you anymore?"

"Well, I-"

"I've given you a place to live, food, a bed to sleep in. I'm nice enough to give you that."

"I know, sir. Thank you. But-"

"What more do you want?!"

"I…"

"What?! What more could you possibly ask for that you want from me?! Huh? I've given you so much already. But no. You want more. So what is it, Cody? What more could you possibly ask for?!"

"For you to love me like Mom did!" I blurted without thinking.

He was angry.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to say that. I'll go give myself a time-out." I rushed toward my room, wanting to get away, only to trip over my father's outstretched foot. After hitting the ground, I looked up at him, scooting away from him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Please, don't take away my dinner again, Daddy."

"What did I tell you to call me?"

"Sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"That's right. 'Cause I would be embarrassed to call such a helpless loser my son."

"Is that really what you think of me, Dad-I mean, sir?"

"That doesn't even come close. You're a horrible, hideous, selfish, annoying, greedy, undeserving, stupid, whiney baby and lost cause."

My lower lip quivered.

"Here comes your annoying whiney baby act now."

"You know what, Dad?"

"What, Cody?" he said, obviously not caring.

"Sometimes…sometimes I wish Mom was still alive…and you weren't."

He was furious. He slowly came toward me, a mischievous grin on his face. "You're getting it now."

*END FLASHBACK*

Tears streamed down my cheeks by the time I was finished.

Melissa was speechless.

"Mel, are you okay?"

"Do you think I'm okay after hearing about how my husband was abused as a kid?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you all that." As much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew it was true. "My father was right. I'm stupid. I don't know what I was thinking in telling you all this. I'm sorry, Mel."

"No, Jackson. It's not your fault. I asked you to."

"But I could have said 'no.' It is my fault. I should've known I couldn't dump all this on someone else."

"Jackson, it doesn't matter who's fault it is. Because I'm here for you." She took my hand in hers. "And I want you to trust me."

"Thank you, Mel." I gave her a long kiss.

"Honey, will you do me a favor?" Mel said after we broke apart.

"Anything for you, baby."

"Can you get the rest of the groceries out of the car?"

I smiled, then nodded, standing up and heading to the door.

"Oh, and can you get the mail?"

"Yeah."

"And the garbage can?"

"Do you have, like, a list of stuff you want me to do or something?"

"Well, you said, 'Anything for me.'"

"Right. Hey, Mel? Wanna do me a favor?"

"Not a chance."

"Didn't think so."


	11. Counseling Cellar Memories

"You think I need counseling?"

I shouldn't have gotten into this car without knowing where I was going. But Melissa asked me to come with her somewhere, and I just couldn't tell her 'no.'

Melissa occasionally glanced at me, having to keep her eyes on the road. "Jackson, with all you've been through growing up, you could really use someone to talk to you."

"I talk to you, Mel."

"Well, you never told me about that scar on your arm."

"And I'm sorry. I don't like talking about my past. You know that."

"But if you talk about your past you can get that stuff off your chest and be okay with it. Then you could learn how to be more of a father figure to Dallas."

Slumped low in the seat, I looked at up to her, unenthusiastically.

"Please, Jackson," she said playfully.

"I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the seat. "Fine."

"Good." She turned the car into a driveway. "We're here."

I glanced out the window. "This is Nathan's house." I turned my face toward her, confused.

She looked at me.

Then I realized. "Oh, no, Mel. No way."

"Let's go."

"Mel, I can't do this."

"Yes, you can, Jackson. C'mon." She got out of the car, then came to my side, opened the door, and half-dragged me to the house. She rang the doorbell.

After a moment, Nathan opened the door. "Oh, hey, guys. Come on in."

I hesitantly stepped inside after Melissa.

"Hey, Jackson. Right this way." Daley gripped my soar arm that I burnt on the stove, pulling me up the stairs.

"Ow, Daley! Dang!"

"Sorry. I'm just so excited. You're the first patient I've had in a while."

"Patient? What, am I in some mental hospital?"

She opened the door to the last room in the upstairs hallway. "Just step into my office."

"You office? What?"

She shoved me inside, pushing me onto a couch, then turned the bolt on the outside of the door, locking us in. "You wouldn't believe how many people try to escape before I'm finished."

My breathing was heavy. "Yeah. I wonder why," I said sarcastically.

"It really bugs me." Daley took a seat on the couch across from me after picking up a notebook from the table. "Do you need anything? Water? A snack?"

"No. I'm good."

"Great. Let's not waste anymore time." She looked at something written in her notebook. "Okay. First question: what's your name?"

I looked at her, confused. Seeing she was serious, I answered. "Uh...Cody Jackson?"

"You're not sure?"

"I'm Cody Jackson."

She scribbled something in the book. "And how old are you, Cody Jackson?"

"Thirty-four."

"When did you start having these emotional problems?"

I sighed. "All my life. Look, Daley. Can we just get on with it?"

She hesitantly gave in. "Fine."

"So what are these issues Melissa has told me so little about?"

"I don't know."

"C'mon, Jackson. You can tell me." When I didn't answer, she continued. "What is it about Dallas? Melissa said something about him."

I leaned back on the couch. "He hates me."

"Uh-huh..." She wrote something in her notebook, then looked up at me. "And how does

that make you feel?"

"Like s***."

"And there was something about you yelling at her."

I sighed. "I told her I was sorry."

"You wanna tell me about it?" It wasn't a question.

"Well, about a week or two ago, I got fired from my job, so I borrowed some money from Nathan because Mel and I couldn't pay the bills. Then Melissa found out and started arguing with me. I was getting frustrated and I yelled at her. I didn't mean to. It just came out."

"How do you feel about your actions?"

"Horrible."

"So let's get back to Dallas. Does he feel better?"

"I don't know. He doesn't talk to me anymore."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Daley! Horrible! I feel horrible, alright? Can you please stop asking me that?"

"Okay. Melissa told me that Dallas was smoking. Is that true?"

"Yeah."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Daley!"

"Sorry. I'll stop."

"Thank you."

"So what about your father?"

My breathing stopped.

Melissa didn't tell her about that did she?

I looked at Daley.

She sat, patiently waiting for me to tell her all about my pain.

"I can't do this." I abruptly got off the couch and headed to the exit. I turned the knob. My

back to her, I said, "Daley, open the door."

"Jackson-"

"Open the door, Daley." I tried to stay calm.

"You need to seat down."

"No, I need to leave."

"I can't let you go until you talk."

"I did talk."

"But you're not finished."

"Yes, I am."

"Melissa told me not to let you out until you tell me everything."

I was silent for a moment.

What was Melissa trying to do?

My voice was barely above a whisper. "F***!" I slammed my palm against the door. I turned and stormed back to the couch, taking a seat. I stared straight into Daley's eyes.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Tell me about your father."

I tried to avoid the subject. "I haven't talked to him in a long time."

"No. I meant, tell me how he was."

"He was just some low-life alcoholic."

"Don't lie to me, Jackson."

"I'm not."

"So are you telling me that you were taken away from him, and he was arrested just because he drank."

"Yeah." Lying wasn't something that I do a lot, but I couldn't tell her the truth.

Daley looked at me, disappointed that I'd lie to her. "Jackson-"

"I was abused...okay?!" A tear fell down my cheek. "Is that what you wanted to know?! That he'd always push me around and beat me up?"

She was silent.

"I was his human slave. I did everything I could to please him. But it was never enough. I was never good enough." Tears escaped my eyes. "I've tried so hard to forget about him.

He's hurt me so much. He's caused me so much pain."

Daley listened me closely. "How did he cause you pain?"

"He made me do everything. I was his personal servant. I cooked and cleaned. If I made one little mistake, I was beaten."

"Can you describe what he did when he'd beat you?"

"He pushed me. He punched and kicked. He threw me across the room. I'd get locked in the cellar." I paused, remembering. "It was so dark and cold in there."

*FLASHBACK*

_(28 years ago)_

"Dad! Stop it! Please!"

"Shut up, Cody!" He had me pinned on the couch, punching and slapping.

I kicked, trying to get free. "Get off me!"

He hit harder.

I finally kicked his lower stomach with all my force.

He loosened his grip on me.

I was able to roll off the couch and onto the floor. I pushed myself up, wanting to get away.

Before I could move, my father picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

I hit him as hard as I could with my small fists. "Let go off me! Put me down!"

I heard a door open.

"You want down?" my father said. "Fine." He dropped me.

I fell to the floor, then started tumbling down the stairs of the cellar.

When I came to a stop, I forced myself to my feet. I looked up toward where I had fallen from.

My father stood in the doorway, an evil grin on his face. He laughed.

I bolted up the stairs.

Once I reached the top, my father pushed me backwards, then slammed the door.

Once again, I rolled down the stairs. When I hit the floor, I slowly pushed myself up.

The room was dark.

I couldn't see a thing.

I felt around for the stairs. When I found them, I quickly climbed up.

I reached the top, then turned the knob.

The door didn't budge.

"Dad!"

I could hear him laughing hysterically.

"Dad, let me out!" I banged my fists on the door wildly. "Please, Daddy! I'm sorry! I

really am!"

I was scared of the cellar. I was constantly locked in here. I hated it.

The monsters always got me.

"Cody," someone hissed.

Facing the dark emptiness, I slid my back downward against the door, coming to a sitting position on the top step, terrified. Tears streamed from my eyes. I used one hand to occasionally hit the door. My voice was softer, hopeless. "Dad, let me out!" I begged.

"Cody," another voice whispered.

"Daddy! Please, sir! I'm sorry!"

All of a sudden, the door opened.

My head, which was previously leaning against the door, hit the floor.

My father picked me up, then threw me down the stairs.

I tumbled down again.

Guys?" my father called down the cellar. "If you're gonna stay here, make yourself useful."

My father let the monsters live in the cellar.

The monsters tortured me.

I hurried up the stairs, trying to get out of here.

As I ran, the monsters stuck their hands through the spaces between the steps, trying to get me.

When I was inches away, I tripped, then was pulled back down the stairs.

I watched my father.

He stared at me, a smile played on his face.

"Daddy, help me!"

Before he slammed the door shut, he said, "Sweet dreams, Cody."

I hit the floor, figures surrounding me.

One of them greeted threateningly. "Hello, Cody."

"Dad!"

*END FLASHBACK*

"Jackson?"

I jumped, startled. My breathing was heavy, my voice emotionless. "Yes, Daley?"

She eyed me suspiciously, then said, "Melissa mention one story in particular that you told her about yesterday. Will you share?"

I was trembling. "Daley? If I tell you this, can I leave?" I wanted out of this room. It reminded me of the cellar.

She became worried at my sudden change in behavior. "Jackson, what's wrong?"

"Daley, please."

"Sure, Jackson."

I sighed, breathing shakily. "My..." I couldn't get myself to say the word. "He cut me with a knife, then put a cigarette to the wound."

"Why?!"

My voice was barely audible. "Because I asked him to make me a sandwich."

"I'm so sorry, Jackson."

I was silent.

"Melissa said something about a scar."

"On my arm."

She got up slowly, then got on her knees in front of me. "May I see it?"

I was shaking uncontrollably now.

"Jackson?"

I didn't answer.

She slowly grabbed my arm, from under my chin, pushing up the sleeve and reading what was scarred. "Oh my gosh!"

I abruptly jumped up, startling her. "I'm leaving now." I walked toward the door, turning the knob.

The door was still locked.

"Daley, please," I begged quietly. "Let me out. Please."

She slowly got off the floor, heading toward me. "Jackson, are you okay?"

"Please, let me out of here!"

"Jackson-"

"D***it, Daley! Let me the f*** outta here!"

She was hurt by my outburst. She put the key into the keyhole, then turned it. When the door was unlocked, she removed the key.

I quickly grabbed the knob and turned it, walking quickly. I took the stairs, two steps at a time. I headed for the door.

Nathan and Melissa were sitting on the couch, chatting.

"Done already?" Nathan said, noticing me coming down the stairs. "I thought you were-"

I shut the door behind me, walking to the car.

I slumped into the passenger's seat, resting my elbows on the door, my head on my hand. I tried to stop the tears from falling. They wouldn't. I fought to control my shaking. I couldn't.

Why did Melissa make me do that? Why did I have to go in there?

Melissa stepped out of Nathan's house, saying her goodbyes. She headed for the car.

When she stepped inside, she said, "What was that all about? You didn't even say goodbye. You were so rude. Why did you-" She looked at me.

I was shaking madly. The tears still fell. My leg tapped up and down.

"Jackson, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

I didn't answer.

"What is it?"

I was silent.

"Tell me!"

"Mel?" My voice cracked.

"Yeah?"

Shakily, I said, "I don't want to do that anymore." I looked at her. "Please, don't make me do it again."

Melissa was hurt. She rubbed my back, trying to comfort me. "Okay, honey. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I-"

"Can we please just go home, Mel?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Yeah." She gripped the steering wheel and pulled out of the driveway.

The only thing I heard the rest of the way home was my occasional sniffle and the sound of the engine.

________________________________________________________________________

Once the car came to a stop, I got out hurriedly and walked into the house.

Dallas was sitting on the couch. He stared at me as I quickly headed into my room.

I shut the door behind me, then sat on the bed, resting my elbows in my knees, my head in my hands. I let the tears fall freely, still shaking.

The door opened.

"Jackson?" Melissa sat down on the bed next to me. "What happened?"

I was crying too much to speak.

Melissa put her arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

I wrapped my arms around her.

We stayed in this position for a long while.


	12. Lay Your Bad Memories To Rest

I opened my eyes, finding myself alone in bed. I lay there for a while, thinking about yesterday.

I scooted to Melissa's side of the bed and picked up the phone, dialing.

After a few rings, someone answered. "Hello?"

"Nathan?"

"Jackson?"

"Is Daley there?"

"She's mad right now. You really hurt her feelings."

I sighed. "I know. I was calling to apologize. Can I talk to her?"

"Sure. Hold on a second."

"Okay."

A waited, hearing distant footsteps coming from the phone.

After a moment, I could just barely hear Nathan's voice. "Daley? It's Jackson. He has something he wants to tell you."

"I don't want to talk to him." Daley was crying. "Tell him I'm in the shower."

"But Daley-"

"I'm not talking to him!"

"Okay. Fine." Nathan's voice was louder now. "Jackson, she's in the shower."

I sighed. "Can you tell her to call me when she gets out?"

"Yeah. I'll tell her."

"Thanks."

"Bye."

________________________________________________________________________

"Jackson? What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk to Daley."

Nathan sighed. "She's upstairs. Follow me."

I stepped inside, walking behind Nathan.

We went upstairs, then into a room.

"Daley? Jackson's here to see you."

"What do you want, Jackson?"

"I'll leave you two alone." Nathan walked out, closing the door behind him.

"I wanted to apologize."

"Jackson, you really scared me."

"I know. I didn't mean to yell at you. I was out of place. I was rude to you for trying to

help me. And I'm sorry, Daley."

"I forgive you."

"If there's anything I could do to make it up to you, just let me know."

"Thanks."

"And I was thinking that maybe, if you wanted to, we could do another session."

"I don't know, Jackson."

"I won't yell at you this time. I promised. And I'll answer all your questions truthfully, no matter how annoying they may be. Just give me another chance, Daley."

She gave in. "Okay."

________________________________________________________________________

"So, Cody? You wanna tell me what got into you yesterday?"

"Well, I was thinking about something, and it really scared me."

"You mind telling me what it was?"

I was quiet for a moment before answering. "When I was little, my father would lock me in the cellar. He had some friends that he let live there and he would tell them to beat me up."

Daley listened closely.

"And when I was sitting here yesterday, I felt like I was locked in the basement again.

That's why I wanted out so badly."

"Cody?"

"Yes, Daley?"

"I think what you should do is put all those bad memories to rest."

"Yeah, but how?"

She thought for a moment. "I got an idea."


	13. Locked In The Cellar

"Daley, I'm not sure I can do this." I grasped the seatbelt nervously, staring at the house.

"Sure you can. C'mon." She stepped out.

Hesitantly, I did the same. "What if he doesn't remember me? What if he hates me? What if-"

"What if he's changed and welcomes you back into his life?"

"Yeah, but...I don't know if I could do that back."

"C'mon, Jackson. At least try."

I sighed. "Okay, okay." I headed up the steps, then knocked on the door.

Daley stood next to me.

After five seconds of silence, I eagerly turned to leave. "Well, no one's home. We tried. Let's go."

Daley grabbed the back of my shirt, stopping me. "Hold on, Jackson. We can't leave yet."

"We could if you let go of my shirt."

She let go, looking into my eyes, seeing the knowledge "You know how to get in, don't you?"

"No. Of course not."

"Don't lie to me, Jackson."

"I'm not."

"I thought you said you wouldn't lie to me anymore."

"I..." I sighed. "Yes, I know another way in."

"Where is it?"

"Follow me." I jumped off the porch, walking around the house until I came to a window.

"Give me a boost."

I helped Daley up.

She looked through the glass. "The coast is clear. Let's go." She pushed the window open and went inside.

I pulled myself up and into the window, dropping onto the bathroom floor.

Daley quickly pulled me up, then pushed me forward a bit. "You first."

I stumbled. "Me!" I whispered. "It was your idea."

"It was your home."

"This place was never my home." I headed toward the door. I carefully turned the knob, then looked into the living room.

It was empty.

I stepped out of the bathroom, Daley following close behind me.

We walked around a bit, quietly exploring.

I headed into my old room.

Everything was exactly how it used to be.

After a while, I walked to the final place.

I stood in front of the cellar door, staring at it. Finally, I gathered enough courage to open it.

I slowly walked down the stairs, looking around.

It was dark. Dust covered everything. Spider webs hung from the ceiling.

I walked around a corner, looking at everything.

Suddenly, I heard the cellar door close, then some footsteps.

I turned and walked back up the stairs.

The door was locked.

"Daley?"

There was no answer.

"Daley, open the door." I banged my fist on the door. "This isn't funny, Daley. Open the door."

"Hello, Cody."

I whirled around.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. "Long time, no see."

"Dad?"

He stood before me.

I could see his face, smell the alcohol, feel his breath on my neck.

"What are you doing here?"

"I, uh..."

"You know how long I've been waiting for you to come back?"

"You missed me?" I tried to hide the hope in my voice.

"Not one bit." He grabbed my shirt, pulling me past him and down the stairs.

I tumbled to the bottom, hitting the dirt floor, coughing.

I heard Daley's voice. "Jackson?"

"You gotta girlfriend or something, Jackson?" He was walking down the stairs.

"No. She's a friend." I tried to push myself up.

"Uh-huh. Sure she is." He kicked my side.

I turned onto my back.

He kicked a couple more times.

I yelled in pain.

"Jackson, where are you?" Daley called.

My father squatted down next to me. "You know how many years I've been waiting for

this moment?"

I punched him in the face.

He stumbled backwards onto the ground.

I quickly got up, running toward the stairs.

My father grabbed my ankle, tripping me.

I hit my head on a step.

He started pulling me backwards.

I tried to pull myself back up the stairs, grabbing anything I could reach. But I couldn't get a hold of anything.

He turned me onto my back, still pulling.

I kicked him hard in the face.

He let go.

I ran up the stair, making it to the top. I tried the doorknob again, checking to see if it was unlocked.

It wasn't.

"Daley!" I pounded my palms on the door a few times. "Daley, I'm in here."

"Jackson, what are you doing in there?"

"I'm locked in. Hurry. Unlock the door."

"What do you say?"

"Hurry up, Daley!"

She didn't move.

"Please!"

She started unlocking the door.

When she was finished, I quickly turned the knob.

The door opened.

But after a couple of inches. It came to an abrupt stop.

I looked at it to see a small chain connected from the door to the frame. "S***!"

"I put a chain on the inside for when I finally get this moment. Now here it is." My father's breath was on the back of my neck again.

"Jackson, is someone else in there with you?"

"Daley, I-"

Before I could finish my sentence, my father pulled on the back of my shirt.

I rolled down the stairs.

"Jackson!" Daley exclaimed. "Jackson, are you okay?!"

"Daley, help me! I need-ahhh!"

My father kicked my side.

"Jackson! Oh my gosh! What's happening?!"

"It's okay," my father answered. "Cody's, just getting what he deserves."

"Ahhh!" I yelled when I got another blow to the side.

"I'm gonna call the police!" Daley warned.

"I wouldn't do that," my father said.

"And why not?"

"Because, if you call the police, I'm gonna shoot Cody."

Daley was silent for a moment. Then she spoke. "Fine. Just tell me what you want! You want money? A car?"

"No." My father was still kicking me.

"Well, what do you want?!"

"I want Cody to pay for all the pain he's caused me."

"Dad, I'm sorry. I-ahhh! S***!" I got another blow to the side.

I gathered all my strength. I dodged his next kick, quickly pushing myself up. I punched my father a few times. When he was on the ground, I kicked.

After a moment, I headed for the stairs.

Daley watched me through the door, worried.

I reached her. "Daley, get outta here, okay?"

"No."

"Daley, if he kills me, he'll kill you next. I'm not gonna let that happen. Go!"

"Jackson, look out!" Daley screamed.

But it was too late.

My father pushed me hard into the banister, which broke.

I flew through the air until I came down on top of an old desk, which immediately collapsed.

My father was next to me in an instant. He picked me up by my shirt, then threw me back

down onto the dirt floor. He kicked and punched for a while, then began kneeing my lower stomach.

"Ahhhhh!"

"Jackson, you'll be okay!" Daley was comforting herself more than she was me.

My father stopped punching and kneeing. He put his hands on my neck, squeezing hard.

A small light coming from behind my father caught my attention.

*FLASHBACK*

_(28 years ago)_

I tried to get away from the monsters, to no avail.

They kicked and punched.

I looked past them, seeing the door that leads outside.

If only I could make it.

*END FLASHBACK*

"Jackson!"

I looked around frantically, searching for a weapon. I found a pen next to the broken desk.

It was just out of my reach.

Seeing what I was trying to do, my father squeezed tighter.

I was almost out of oxygen.

I reached for the pen again.

It was centimeters away.

I forced my arm further, grasping the pen. I quickly stabbed it into my father's arm.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" He let go.

I forced myself up, rushing to the door that leads outside. I pushed it open, hurrying out. I slammed the doors shut behind me, locking them, then sat there, catching my breath.

All of a sudden, I heard a shriek coming from inside the living room.

"Daley!" I ran around the house, leaping onto the front porch, quickly turning the knob.

The door didn't budge.

"S***! I pounded on the door. "Daley! Daley, hold on!"

There was only one thing I could think of to do.

I rammed the door a couple times, finally getting it open after the forth try.

I hurried inside, finding Daley tied to a chair, her mouth taped.

I quickly headed toward her.

She was rambling on about something, but I couldn't tell because of the tape covering her mouth.

"What?" I went to the back of the chair. "I can't understand you." I quickly began to untie the knot.

All of a sudden, a hand grabbed my hair, slamming my head against the back of Daley's chair. My father dragged me to a wall.

I couldn't get free.

He slammed me against it, causing me to wince. He punched my face, then my lower stomach.

I doubled up in pain.

He took the opportunity to violently bring his knee to my face.

My head flew back, hitting the wall.

My father punched my face hard.

I blacked out.


	14. Forever On My Arm

I opened my eyes slowly.

My head hurt. My side ached.

I lifted my head from the kitchen table, finding myself at my father's house.

I looked over, seeing Daley watching me.

I tried to move, but my hands were tied: one to the top of a chair leg, the other to a cinderblock sitting on the table. My feet were bound to the chair's legs. My mouth had tape on it.

My father walked into the kitchen. "Oh, good. You're up."

I glared at him, anger in my eyes.

He took a seat next to me, then ripped the tape from my mouth.

I winced.

"How was your nap?"

I looked down.

He violently gripped my chin, pulling it up. "Look at me when I'm talking to you! You haven't forgotten the rules of this house have you?"

I was silent.

"Answer me! You remember the rules, don't you?"

"Yes."

He slapped my face hard.

After I recovered, I corrected myself. "Yes, sir."

"Great. So you remember that you're supposed to be punished after you break the rules?"

My teeth were pressed tightly together. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent." He pulled something from his pocket.

I exhaled shakily and closed my eyes when I saw what it was.

He held the knife above my arm.

I looked at my arm, which was stuck to the table.

It was the one I'd burned cooking chili.

My father unwrapped the bandage from around my arm.

I took a few deep breaths, preparing myself.

My father stuck the knife into the wound.

"Ahh!"

"How'd you get this, Cody?"

Through clenched teeth, I said, "I burned it."

"I can see that. How'd you burn it?"

"Why do you wanna know? It's not like you care."

"What did you just say to me, Cody?" He stuck the knife further into the wound.

"Ahhh! Nothing! I didn't say nothing, sir!"

"That's what I thought." He twisted the knife around before removing it.

"Ahhhhhhh!" I leaned my head back, squeezing my eyes together.

"Are you ready for your punishment, Cody?"

"No."

"You're not? Well, I guess I'll go give you friend over there her punishme-"

"No!"

My father slapped my face again.

"No, sir. I'm ready."

"Good. 'Cause so am I." He stuck the knife into my arm impatiently and began writing.

I grasped the bottom of my seat with the hand tied to the chair leg, knuckles white. I held my breath, biting my tongue to keep from screaming out, so I won't get anymore punishment.

He dug the knife in deeper.

I made my tongue bleed by biting it so hard, trying to keep from yelling.

Finally, my father put the knife up, reaching for a nearby bottle of alcohol.

I let out my breath I'd been hold, beginning to breath heavily.

I turned my head away from him, looking at Daley.

She was in tears.

I wanted to comfort her. "Daley, I'll be okay. I'm fine."

My father poured some alcohol onto the cut.

My teeth were clenched together. "Don't cry, Daley. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? You got that? I won't-ahhhhhhhhh!

My father took the cigarette from his mouth, putting it to my skin.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" I squirmed in my chair.

After a while, he put it into a nearby ashtray.

I exhaled shakily.

All of a sudden, my chair flipped backwards.

The cinderblock tied to one of my hands fell with me. It landed on my stomach, crushing me.

"Ahhhhh!"

It was hard to breath. The air wouldn't come.

My father kicked my side.

"Ahhhh!" I lost oxygen with every yell, my stomach unable to inhale because of the heavy weight.

I got several more blows, since I couldn't keep myself from screaming out. I had a coughing fit, loosing more air.

After a while, my father walked toward Daley, pulling the tape from her mouth. "Ready for your punishment, dear?"

"Don't you dare f***ing touch her!" I yelled.

My father came back to me. He picked up the cinderblock, setting it to the side. Then he untied the ropes on my hands and feet. He grabbed my shirt, throwing me across the room.

I hit the floor.

My father came at me. He grabbed my shirt and slammed me against the wall.

He had a handful of my shirt in his hand, holding me there, forcing his fist against my chest.

I tried to take deep breaths.

"You ready to end this, Cody?" He pulled a knife and poked it into my neck.

I tried to back my head as far away as possible, squeezing my eyes closed.

"Any last words?"

I spat in his face. "F*** you!"

"Bye, Cody."

I felt the knife poke into my skin a bit, then it quickly stopped. I heard a click as the knife fell to the floor.

I opened my eyes to see Daley on my father's back, the knife on the ground.

My father threw Daley off his back.

She hit the floor.

I quickly picked up the knife, gripping it tightly in my hands.

My father looked at me. "Put the knife down, Cody."

"No."

"Put it down, now!"

"No."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." He pulled a gun from his waistband, pointing it at Daley.

"Wait! Wait!"

My father looked at me.

"I give up. Do whatever you want with me. Just please don't hurt her."

"Good choice. Give me the knife."

I dropped the knife onto the ground, then kicked it to him. "Please, sir. Let her go. She has nothing to do with this."

"Cody, get down onto your knees and put your hands up."

I did as I was told. "Yes, sir. Just please let her go. She hasn't-"

"Shut up!"

"Yes, sir."

"Hey, you?" My father looked at Daley. "Get outta here."

She hesitantly stood up.

"But if you call the cops on me, and I get arrested, just remember: I have friends that will

kill you and your family. You understand what I'm saying?"

She nodded, then headed for the door.

"Daley, wait!" I said.

Daley paused, looking at me.

My father moved the gun through my hair.

I gulped. Trembling, I tilted my head away from the gun, trying to avoid it. My voice was shaking. "Tell Melissa and Dallas that I love them. And I'm sorry."

"I will." Daley had tears in her eyes.

"And tell everyone else, too, okay?"

"Okay." After a long pause, she said, "Goodbye, Jackson."

Tears streamed down my face. "Bye, Daley."

She ran out the door.

A minute later, I heard a car crank.

I was shaking. "Can you please get this over with before I regret this, sir?"

His voice was barely audible. "No."

I was looking at the floor. "Please, sir! I can't take this anymore!"

He was silent.

"Please! It's killing me inside! You got what you wanted. Sir, please! Let me have this one. Shoot me already!"

He was quiet for a moment. "You don't love me, Cody?"

I didn't answer.

"Tell me!" He violently pushed the gun into my temple.

"No, sir. I don't love you. I've tried. I really have. But I couldn't-not after all you've done,

not after what you're about to do. But please just do it already!"

"Who's Melissa?"

"What?"

"The girl you mention: who is she?"

"She's my wife, sir."

"You got married?"

"Yes, sir."

"You didn't invite me to the wedding."

"I know, sir. I wanted the day to be perfect for Melissa. And if you were there..." I trailed off.

"What about Dallas?"

"He's my son, sir."

"How old is he?"

"Fifteen, sir."

"You never told me you had a son."

"I know, sir. I didn't think you'd be a great influence on him."

"Who are the others you mentioned?"

"My friends, sir."

"You have friends?"

"Yes, sir."

"Since when?"

"Tenth grade, sir."

"I've missed a lot of stuff in your life."

"I know, sir."

"Cody, I'm sorry."

"For what, sir?"

When he didn't speak, I looked up at him.

He held the gun to his own head.

I quickly stood. "Dad, no!"

But it was too late.

He pulled the trigger.

I caught him before he hit the floor. "Dad!" I slowly bent to the ground with him in my

arms. "Don't do this!"

But I knew it was already done.

I gently put him on the floor, taking off my jacket and putting it over his head.

I walked over to the phone, dialing a number.

"911. What's your emergency?"

"A man just shot himself." I told the person on the other end the address, then hung up.

I got up, picking up my father's pocket knife from nearby. I put my hand on the doorknob, then turned back around. "Bye, Dad."

I walked outside, heading toward Daley's car. I went to the passenger's side and looked in

the window.

Daley's head rested on the steering wheel. She was sobbing uncontrollably.

I opened the door, getting in.

Startled, Daley punched and punched. "Get outta here! Leave me alone!"

"Ow! Daley, stop! That hurt! Quit it! Stop! Ow! Dang!" I tried to block her blows.

"Get out of my car right now, you monster! Go!" She punched my face.

"Ow! Daley, please! What are you doing?!" I tried to back away, but was stuck against the door. "Daley, stop this! Ow!"

"Get out! I hate you! Leave!" She punched my face some more with all her strength.

"Daley! Don't! I-"

"Shut up! You killed him! You're a murderer! You won't get away with this!" She started slamming her fist near my lower stomach, desperate to get me out of the car.

"Ahhhh! Daley-ahhhhh! D***it! Quit! F***! Daley, stop! Please! You're hurting me. Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" I tried to find the door handle. When I did, I pulled it, falling backwards

out of the car. I used my feet to push myself away from the vehicle.

I saw Daley get out of the car.

"Daley, no! It's me. It's-"

She punched my face.

I fell onto my back, holding my now-bleeding nose. "Daley!"

I heard sirens in the distance.

"Daley, the cops are coming! I have to go! I have to-"

"You're not going anywhere!"

"Daley, I'm not-"

"Shut up!"

"Please, just-"

"Shut up!"

"Daley, I-"

"I said, 'Shut up!'"

I was close to tears. "Daley, please!" I begged.

She kicked my lower stomach.

I backed away. "F***! Daley, stop! S***! Ahhh! You're hurting me, Daley! Stop! Please!

I'm begging you! Please!"

She didn't stop.

I used all my strength to get up. I grabbed her arms, trying to hold her still.

After a moment, she stopped struggling, tears streaming down her face. "Please don't hurt me," she begged.

"Daley, it's just me. It's Jackson."

She looked up. "Jackson?"

I nodded.

She pulled me into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're okay! I heard a gunshot. I thought you were...dead."

"I did, too."

She pulled out of the hug, looking at me. As if just realizing what she'd done, she said, "I'm so sorry, Jackson! I thought you were him. I was scared. I didn't know what to do. I-"

"Daley, it's okay."

The sirens were getting closer.

"Daley, we gotta get outta here. The cops are coming."

"C'mon." She rushed into the car.

I got in the passenger's seat.

She sped out of the driveway, going the opposite direction of the sirens.

"Um...could I go to your house to clean up a bit? Melissa will freak if I go in the house

looking like this."

Daley glanced at me. "You do look horrible. Your nose is bleeding. Your arms have

scratches. Your-"

"Thank you, Daley."

"And you face-"

"What's wrong with my face?"

"Nothing." She smiled. "I really messed you up, didn't I?"

"Oh yeah."

"Wait until everyone else hears about this."

"Great."


	15. Cursive Napkin

"Where have you guys been?!" Nathan exclaimed from the couch when he heard the door open. He turned to look at us. "Oh my gosh! Jackson, what happened?!"

"Long story, Nathan," Daley said. "I'll explain later. Jackson needs to get cleaned up a bit. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Nathan said.

"Thanks." I walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

I sighed, looking at myself in the mirror.

My nose was bleeding. My eyes were black. My hair was a mess.

I stayed in that position for a while, then abruptly exploded. "F***!" I knocked everything off the small counter in one angry motion.

"S***!" I quickly picked everything up and put it back on the counter, realizing what I'd done.

I turned on the sink, gently scrubbing my face.

When I was finished, I turned the sink off and stepped toward the shower. I reached my

arm in, twisting the knob to cold.

Water sprayed from above.

I stripped my clothes off and stepped inside.

The water felt relaxing.

I stood there for a while, then reached for the soap. As I did, I saw the scar on my arm.

It read, "_Robbie's unwanted property_."

I punched the side of the shower, tears blending in with the falling water. I slid down the wall in the corner of the shower. staring at my arm.

* * *

"I'll take you home," Daley offered. She looked at Nathan and gave him a kiss.

"What about the story?"

"I'll finish it when I get back."

"Okay." Nathan looked at me. "See ya, Jackson."

"Bye." I headed out the door, followed by Daley.

* * *

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. But...can we not go somewhere that will get me killed?"

Daley chuckled. "Sure, Jackson."

"Thanks."

"Bye."

"Bye, Daley." I stepped out of the car and shut the door behind me.

I walked through the grass and into the house.

"Jackson, where have you been?! It's past midnight! You've been gone since six!"

"I'm sorry, Mel."

She looked at me closely, seeing my bruises. "What happened?!"

I sat on the couch.

She took a seat next to me. "Tell me, Jackson."

"I went to see my father."

"He did that to you?!"

"Some of it."

"Then what's the rest?"

"Daley beat my a**."

"What?! I'm gonna have a talk with her." She picked up the phone.

"Mel, don't. It wasn't her fault." I took the phone from her hand and put it back on the hook.

"I don't understand. Daley beat you up and you're not mad at her?"

"No."

"What am I missing here?"

"The beginning."

"Explain."

I sighed. "Yesterday, when I went to that counseling thing, Daley asked me about my father. Then I started thinking about how my father would lock me in the cellar when I was little. And that room Daley and I were in locks from the outside. I felt trapped like in the cellar. She wouldn't let me leave. Then I yelled at her, and she finally opened the door."

"That's when you stormed out of the house."

"Yeah. So when I woke up this morning, I called her to apologize, but she wouldn't talk to me. So I finally started walking there since you had just left with the car."

"Yeah. I had to pay the light bill."

"Well, I apologized to Daley and we did another session, and-"

"Wait. You did another session? I thought you didn't want to do that anymore."

"She was so excited to counsel me that first time. So I thought it was the least I could do."

"Okay. Continue."

"I told her why I yelled at her, and she said that I should go back to my father's house."

"Why would you do that, Jackson?"

"I don't know, Mel. I guess I really wanted to see him."

"Why?"

"Because he's my father, Mel. And I wanted to know how he was, and if he'd changed."

"Well, I'm guessing he didn't."

I shook my head. "I ended up locked in the cellar again, and I couldn't get the door open. So I got out the doors that lead outside."

"Where was Daley?"

"She was trying to get the door open on the other side. But it ended up having one of those chains that only allows the door to open about an inch. And every time I got close to getting out, my father would push me back down the stairs before I could get the chain loose."

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Jackson."

"It's okay, Mel. I'm fine now. Anyways, when I was outside I heard Daley scream and I busted the front door down.

"So the front door was locked? How did you get in? Did you break in, Jackson?!"

"Sorta."

"Sorta?!"

"Mel, can I please finish, and you can yell at me later?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

"Daley was tied to a chair. When I tried to get her loose, my father and I started fighting, and I blacked out."

Melissa had tears in her eyes.

"I woke up with one hand tied to a chair and the other to a cinderblock on the table. Then my dad..." Instead of saying it, I showed her my arm.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry." She wiped her tears. "And look at your burn wound. I'll have to wrap that up again."

"Okay, Mel. Anyways, he was gonna punish Daley next, and I couldn't let him. I yelled at him, and he untied me and slammed me against the wall." I knew she would flip out when I told her the next part. "Mel?"

"Yeah?"

"No matter what I tell you next, just remember that I'm here now, okay? Can you do that?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. So he held a knife to my throat."

Melissa gasped.

"He was about to kill me when Daley jumped on his back."

"But I thought Daley was tied to a chair."

"She was. But when I first came in, I untied her before my father and I started fighting.

She just pretended like she was still tied."

"Oh. Well, when you're done telling me the story, maybe I should call her to thank her instead of yell at her."

"Yeah. So anyways, my dad dropped the knife and I picked it up."

"Jackson, please tell me you didn't-"

"No, Mel. I didn't stab him."

She was relieved.

"So I held the knife. But then he pulled out a gun and pointed it at Daley. So I gave him the knife and asked him to let her go. He let her, but she couldn't call the cops or he'd get someone to kill her if he would have gotten arrested."

Melissa had silent tears streaming uncontrollably down her face.

I took her hands, knowing the next part would be hard on her. "I had to get on my knees, and before Daley left, I told her to tell you and Dallas that I love you and I'm sorry."

"I love you, too."

"Then I told her to tell everyone else that, too. She said she would, then went outside and sat in the car. I was really scared. I didn't want to die. But I thought I was going to, and I wanted him to get it over with. But he didn't. He asked me some questions, and-"

"What questions?"

"He asked me if I loved him."

"What did you say?"

"I told him 'no.'"

"What else did he ask?"

"He asked who you were and why I didn't invite him to the wedding."

"Why didn't you invite him?" Melissa was curious.

"Because I wanted the day to be special for you."

"Thank you, Jackson."

"He asked about Dallas. He wanted to know why I never told him about Dallas. I said it was because he wasn't the kind of person I wanted my son to be like when he grows up.

He asked me who the others that I'd mentioned were. I'd said they were my friends."

Melissa sniffled.

"He felt guilty for not being there most of my life. He said he was sorry. I asked him why, and when I looked up at him...he shot himself."

"Oh, Jackson! I'm so sorry!"

"Me, too." I was quiet for a moment. "So anyways, I called the police and went outside. Daley was still there, so I got in the car. She thought I was my father so she started punching me. I finally got the door open and I fell out. The next thing I know, Daley's out of the car kicking me. I heard the police coming. It took a while to convince her that I wasn't my father. Then she took me to her house, where I cleaned up. I didn't want you to be sad, so I tried to cover it up. I guess that didn't work too well."

Melissa was hurt. "You were gonna hide this from me?"

"Mel, you're always sad or mad at me. I don't want that. I wanna do something right. I wanna make you happy."

"Lying isn't right, and it sure doesn't make me happy."

"I'm sorry, Mel. I didn't want you to feel hurt."

"Well, how do you think I feel now?"

"Mel, I'm sorry."

"You lied to me again, Jackson. When is this gonna stop?!"

"I'm sorry. From now on, I'll be completely honest. I promise."

"For some reason, I have trouble believing that." Melissa got up and walked into our room, locking the door behind her.

I sighed.

When I tell her the truth, I hurt her. When I lie to her, she gets yells at me. When I try to cover it up, I have to sleep on the couch.

This is great. Just perfect.

* * *

I couldn't sleep.

The couch was so uncomfortable. It was too short and very hard.

I tossed and turned, searching for a comfy position.

I wanted to be in the bed, sleeping next to Melissa, but I couldn't wake her up.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes, then yawned.

I headed into the kitchen, looking at the clock.

7:23.

I decided that I'd make Melissa breakfast in bed to apologize.

I pulled a few things from the refrigerator and cabinets, setting them onto the counter.

* * *

I looked at the tray, which contained bacon, eggs, grits, a biscuit, and coffee. The tray also included flowers that I'd picked from the next door neighbor's rose bush. There was a small square napkin that I'd written a note on. It read:

_Mel,_

_I'm sorry for lying to you. I thought you'd be worried, and I didn't want you to stress about this. I was wrong to try and hide what had happened. I promise that I'll be fully honest with you from now on. I'm sorry for all the bad things I've done to hurt you. Please, forgive me._

_Love ya,_

_Jackson_

_p.s. I made sure I didn't burn your toast this time._

_p.p.s. There's some extra burnt toast in the kitchen._

_p.p.p.s. It tastes horrible._

I went to our room and picked the lock, then carried the tray inside, setting it on the nightstand next to Melissa.

I watched her sleep for a moment.

Her breathing was slow, calm. Her facial features were relaxed.

I gently kissed her forehead before walking out of the room.

* * *

I sat at the kitchen table, one of my elbows on the table, my head resting on a hand.

All of a sudden, the door to the room opened, a very happy Melissa stepping out.

"Morning, honey," I said.

"Morning, Jackson. The breakfast was amazing. Thanks."

I stood up, walking to her. "Look, Mel. I'm really sorry for the way I've been acting, and I promise I'll change."

"It's okay, Jackson. I forgive you."


	16. Looking For Money In The Yard

"So, Dallas?" Melissa said. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"A car."

"Anything else?" I asked.

He looked at me. "Nope."

Melissa and I exchanged glances.

"Are you sure?" Melissa asked. "Nothing else?"

"Positive."

Melissa gave me a look.

"Uh…we kinda don't have the money to get another car." I said.

"Well, I don't want anything else." He stepped out of the kitchen, soda in hand, and headed to his bedroom.

"Jackson, what are we gonna do?" Melissa said when Dallas was gone.

"I don't know, Mel. I'll think of something, okay?"

________________________________________________________________________

"So, Jackson, have you talked with Dallas?"

"Sorta."

"Sorta?"

"I mean…well, no, not really."

"Has he told you what he wants for his birthday?"

"A car."

"Are you gonna get him one?"

"I don't know, Daley. He said he didn't want anything else. But I don't know how to get the money."

"Why don't you have a yard sale?"

"And sell what? We barely have anything as it is."

"I'm sure you'd find something."

"I don't know. Maybe."

"So how are you and Melissa?"

"Last night, when I got in, she got mad at me for trying to cover up what happened. It's just that…I don't want to hurt her. And I thought she'd be all stressed out over this. That's why I didn't want her to know. But she yelled at me for lying to her."

"Did you guys make up?"

"Yes."

The alarm on a nearby clock went off.

Daley looked at me. "So that's it for today. I was thinking we could start meeting once a week instead of every day. You up for that?"

"Sure."

"Great." She stood up.

I got off the couch and headed to the door.

Daley kept it unlocked now, wanting to avoid another one of my outbursts.

I opened the door for Daley. "After you."

"Thank you." She stepped out.

We headed downstairs.

"Hey, guys," Nathan said. "How'd it go?"

I knew that after Mel and I would leave, Daley would tell Nathan about the things I'd told her. But I didn't really mind much.

"Great," Daley said proudly.

"Jackson, you ready to go?" Melissa said.

"Yeah."

"We'll see you later." Melissa waved.

"See ya later." I followed Melissa out the door and to the car.

I sat in the driver's seat, one hand in Melissa's, the other on the steering wheel.

After a while, I broke the long silence. "Mel?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For making me go to counseling. It's really helped."

She looked at me. "You're welcome. I'm glad it's working."

"Oh, and Daley said we should have a yard sale or something to get the money to buy

Dallas a car. What do you think?"

"That'd be good."

________________________________________________________________________

"Dallas, your mother and I are gonna have a yard sale to get some money for your car. Do you have anything you could sell?"

"Nope."

"Nothing?"

"No."

"You couldn't help out a little bit?"

"It's my birthday present. I shouldn't have to pay for it." He walked into his room.

I stood there for a moment.

Melissa walked into the living room. "We could sell the DVD player."

"Okay."

"And the DVDs since they're useless without it."

"Sure."

"What about the TV in our room? We have one in the living room so we don't need one in there, too."

"Okay."

"You find anything?"

"Uh...the pool table in the basement?"

"Cool. Anything else?"

"No."

"Well keep looking."

"I am."

"I was thinking I could sell some of my pictures and paintings." Melissa was an amazing

artist and photographer.

"Alright," I said.

Melissa walked into another room.

I walked into the kitchen, getting a bottle of water. I unscrewed the lid, then took a sip, thinking.

What could I sell?


	17. Selling Your Future

"Mel, what are you doing?"

"I'm setting this stuff outside." Her arms were full of random objects.

"Why do you have my guitar?"

"Well, I figured, since you don't use it much anymore, we could sell it."

"I don't use it a lot because it's a collectable. I want to keep it in perfect condition."

"So it should be worth a lot of money, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't wanna sell it."

"Why not?"

I knew it sounded a bit cheesy, but it was the truth. "It's just that...um..."

"Well?" When I didn't answer, she said, "Jackson?!"

After a moment, I blurted out. "It's because, when I play the guitar, it gives me hope for the future, okay, Mel?!"

"But it's not gonna get you anywhere in the future!"

"Your stupid art doesn't get you anywhere, either!"

She was hurt.

I sighed. "Mel..."

She dropped everything onto the floor, then turned, heading toward our room, tears beginning to fall.

"Mel, wait." I stepped over the pile, then stood in front of her, blocking her from the room. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean that."

When I tried to pull her into a hug, she pushed me. "Get away from me, Jackson!"

"Baby, I'm sorry! I'll sell the guitar."

Again, she walked toward the room.

I tried to stop her. "I'm selling it, okay, Mel?"

Melissa slammed the door shut.

"S***!" I stood there for a moment, then turned, picked up the pile from the floor, and headed outside.

________________________________________________________________________

"Thanks." The young, careless boy turned and walked toward his parents, dragging the guitar across the pavement.

After a moment, Nathan stepped onto the porch. "Hey, man."

"S'up, Nathan?"

"How's the yard sale going?"

"Okay, I guess."

"That's good."

"Yeah." I watched the kid with my-I mean his-guitar and his parents head toward their car.

Nathan followed my eyes to see what was preoccupying me.

The boy tossed the guitar into the backseat and then stepped inside the car, closing the door behind him.

I could see Nathan glance at me sympathetically.

"Sorry, man," he said.

"It's okay."

"Um, if you liked it so much, why'd you sell it?"

I looked at him seriously. "Because Mel wanted me to. And she takes precedence over what I want."

We were silent for a while.

"Hey, guys." Eric walked onto the porch, followed by Taylor.

"S'up?" Nathan said.

"Nothing much," said Eric.

Taylor looked around the yard. "Where's Melissa?"

"Uh, she's inside," I said.

"Oh." Taylor took a seat next to Eric.

We were quiet for a while, until Eric spoke. "So where's Daley? It's not like I really care. I'm just trying to start a conversation."

"She went to get Lex. She should be here..." Nathan glanced at his watch. "...any minute now." He looked up, spotting Daley getting out of a car, followed by Lex. "Here she is now."

Lex walked onto the porch, followed by another woman. "Hey, guys. This is Mandy."

Each one of us introduced ourselves.

They both took a seat.

Daley walked onto the porch. "Hi, you guys."

"Hey, honey." Nathan gave her a quick kiss.

Daley sat down next to him.

"Well I'm gonna go…away." Eric got up and walked off the porch, mixing in with the people looking around the yard sale.

I watched him.

Eric looked around, spotting a kid. "Ah-ha!" He quickly picked up the first thing he could find on a nearby table: Melissa's high-tech toaster. He headed toward the boy. "Hey, kid?"

The child turned around. "Yeah?"

"Go get your parents to buy this, okay?"

"What is it?"

"A toaster…I think."

"We already have one."

"Not like this. This one is like a computer. You put the bread in. Then you press a couple buttons, like you would in a rocket ship. And that's where the magical part happens: you get toast. How cool is that?!" Eric said, fake excitement in his voice.

"Very cool!"

"I know, right?!"

"Yeah!"

The enthusiasm left Eric's voice. "Yeah? Go get your parents to buy it."

"Okay!" The kid snatched the toaster from Eric and ran to his mother.

Eric noticed me watching him. He gave a thumbs up and mouthed the words, '_I got this_.'

I rolled my eyes.

Eric searched the crowd for more victims.

I turned my attention back to the people on the porch.

We chatted with each other for a while, Eric eventually joining us again.

"So you guys like my new outfit?" Taylor said.

Daley looked at her. "Not really."

Taylor pouted. "That shirt is so last year."

"So is that hair," Daley remarked.

"And you're the one to talk," said Taylor.

"You know what, Taylor? You're just-" Daley was interrupted by a crash coming from inside the house.

I jumped up and ran inside, everyone following behind me.

Melissa threw her art easel onto the floor.

It landed on top of a pile of picture frames, drawing utensils, and other things.

"Mel, what are you doing?" I said.

"I'm throwing out all my art stuff." Her voice was emotionless, yet her eyes were full of tears.

"Why?" Nathan asked, standing behind me, along with the others.

"Because my stupid dream of being an artist isn't gonna get me anywhere," she answered, eyeing me.

"Mel, I'm sorry. I'm a jerk, alright? What else can I say?" I sighed, feeling everyone's eyes on me. "Your art isn't stupid. I am."

"I know," Melissa said, gaining a wide smile from Eric. She reached into a hall closet, pulling out more items.

"Mel, stop."

She threw some objects onto the floor. More tears fell as her crying became audible.

Before Mel could get anything else from the closet, I walked to her and grasped her arms, gently but firmly. "Stop this, Mel! Okay?"

She tried to push me away, banging her fists against my chest, but my grip was too strong. "Let me go, Jackson!"

"No!"

Melissa slapped my face hard.

Surprised, I let go.

Melissa pushed past me, heading for the closet.

I quickly recovered, turning. I grabbed her hands this time, so she couldn't slap me again.

She whipped around, looking up at me. Her voice was quiet. "Let go of me, Jackson."

"Mel, please don't do this. Your art is amazing. And I'm sorry about what I said earlier. But you can't quit. 'Cause if you give up on your dreams...you'll end up like me." I paused for a moment. "I don't want that to happen to you, baby. I can barely provide for my family. I don't have many friends. My son won't talk to me. I'm constantly hurting you. S***. I can barely make toast without burning it."

She laughed a bit through her tears.

"What I'm trying to say, Mel, is that you can't give up. You have to chase your dreams...even if they run too fast. You still have to try." I paused. "Which is what I should've done."

Everyone was silent.

"I'm sorry, Mel." I let go of her hands, hoping she'd make the right choice: not the one that inflicts pain to my body in any way, but the one that tells her to continue being an artist.

Everyone watched Melissa hopefully.

"Jackson?" she said.

"Yes, baby?"

"Could you do me a favor?"

"Anything for you, Mel."

"Could you put my art stuff back into the closet?"

I smiled, giving her a hug. "I'd love to."


	18. Charity Case

"So how much did we get?" Melissa said impatiently.

Daley counted the money. "One hundred, sixty-nine dollars and…" She rummaged through the change. "…twelve cents."

"Most of that is thanks to me," Eric said.

"Thanks, Eric," Melissa said, giving him a hug.

* * *

"We got two weeks to get the rest of the money for Dallas's car. What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know, Mel. But we'll get the money. Trust me on this one."

Melissa was skeptical. "Okay."

* * *

"So what's been going on, Jackson?"

"Just trying to get the money for Dallas's car."

"How much does it cost?"

"We're gonna have to get an old used one, but I can fix it up later. So I'd say about twenty-five hundred."

"How much you got left?"

"Almost twelve hundred."

"Jackson, that's not even half!"

"I know, Daley."

"What are you gonna do?"

I shrugged.

The alarm clock rang.

"I'll see ya later, Daley."

"Yeah. See ya."

* * *

"Hey, Jackson."

"Hey, Nathan. What'd you need me to come over for?"

"Car trouble."

I followed him to his car.

"It's not running."

I popped the hood.

Nathan tried to crank it.

"Okay," I called. "That's good."

Nathan got out and stood next to me. "What's the problem?"

"The screw connecting the cable wire to the battery post is loose." I tightened it. "I told you how to fix this last time."

"You did?"

I nodded.

"I forgot."

I turned to leave.

"Wait!" Nathan stopped me.

"Yeah?"

He started taking out his wallet.

"Nathan…"

"Here." He handed me a twenty. "For the car service."

"Nathan-"

"And this is for doing a great job." He put a hundred dollar bill into my hand, then kept stacking. "And this is for getting here on short notice. This is for teaching a little about cars when your's wouldn't start a couple days ago."

I looked past him and sighed, waiting as he placed each bill into my hand.

"This is for saving Daley's life. This is for being such a great friend." He patted my cheek. "This-"

"Nathan!" I pushed his hand away. "I'm not a charity."

"I know."

"No, you don't. I fixed your car because that's what friends do. I saved Daley because that's what friends do."

"Well don't friends help others out?"

I nodded.

"Then why won't you let us help you, Jackson?"

I looked down at the money, sighing. "Nathan, I can't accept this."

"Yes, you can."

"No!" I tried to control myself. "No, Nathan. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because Mel will be mad."

"Tell her I wouldn't take it back."

"Nathan-"

"Jackson, you need this money. I just wanna help. Why won't you let me?!"

"Nathan, I'm sorry. But I-"

"Look, Jackson." He tried searching for the words. "I…c'mon, just…" He sighed. "Fine. If you don't want my help…whatever." He turned and headed toward the house.

"Nathan…" I called. "Nathan, c'mon, man. I'm sorry."

He walked into the house, slamming the door behind him.

"S***!" I stared at the money, contemplating, then opened the door to Nathan's car and set it in the driver's seat.


	19. Cuffs

"I called the guy that's gonna sell us the car. He said if I drive up there with the money by three o'clock tomorrow, he'll drive the car back."

"Cool," Melissa said. "So that'll give us enough time to get ready for the party."

"Yeah. But we still need five hundred bucks."

"How will we get that much in one day?"

I thought for a moment. "Mel?"

"Yeah?"

"What if we…borrowed the money?"

She sighed. "I don't know, Jackson. I don't feel comfortable with borrowing money from people."

"I know. I'm sorry. It was just a thought."

________________________________________________________________________

"Hey, everyone. Come on in." Melissa waved them inside.

"So where's the new car?" Eric said.

"We couldn't get it. We didn't have the money," I said, avoiding Nathan's eyes.

"How much more do you guys need?" Daley asked.

"Five hundred."

There was a silence, then Nathan spoke. "I was gonna give Dallas a hundred dollars for his birthday. That'll help a little." He pulled out his wallet and handed Melissa the bill.

Melissa said, "Nathan, that's real sweet of you, but-"

"Oh, and here's two hundred from me and Eric." Taylor put the money into Melissa's hand.

Daley and Lex also gave Melissa some money.

"Hey, guys," Nathan said. "Looks like you got enough money now."

Melissa started. "But-"

"C'mon, Mel. If we all pay part, you'd have enough," Daley said.

After a moment, she gave in. "Okay. But the party is in two hours. And there's only one hour until three. How long does it take to get there, Jackson?"

I thought for a second. "I'd say…about an hour."

"Do you think you could make it?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. We'll be getting everything ready." Melissa handed me the money and gave me a quick kiss, then headed into the kitchen, everyone following her.

"Nathan, wait."

Nathan turned to me. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No problem. That's what friends do."

"And I'm sorry about how I acted when you tried to loan me money."

"That's okay."

We stood there for a minute.

"You should get going." Nathan said.

"Yeah. I'll be back soon. See ya."

"Bye."

________________________________________________________________________

I checked the clock. 2:47.

I only have thirteen minutes left to get the car.

I sped up.

For the price I was going to buy it for, the car was probably old and didn't run well. But I could fix that.

I drove along the highway, the only noise coming from the engine and the radio. I sped up a bit with every minute that passed.

All of a sudden, I heard sirens behind me.

"S***!" I slowed the car and pulled over, the officer doing the same.

I quickly buckled my seatbelt. and turned off the radio, then rolled the window down. I pulled my license from my wallet and opened a compartment in the dash, grabbing the registration.

The officer got out of his car and headed toward mine. When he stood at the window he said, "I'm gonna need to see some license and registration, please."

I handed them to him.

The cop walked back toward his car, talking into a walkie-talkie.

When he returned, he said, "Sir, I'm gonna need you to step out of the vehicle."

I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the door, and got out of the car. "Is there a problem?"

"You've reached fifteen penalty points. I'm gonna have to put you under arrest." He grabbed my wrist, slapping cuffs on them. During the process, he saw my arms. "What did you cut into your arms?"

"I didn't do that."

He led me toward his car. "Uh-huh." He didn't believe me.

I decided it'd be better not to say anything.

The officer opened the door, pushing me inside.

I sat, looking down.


	20. A Boy Named Dustin

"Jackson?! Where are you?!"

"I'm in jail."

"What?! How did you get into jail?!"

I could hear Eric's voice in the background.

"Who's in jail?" he said.

"I was kinda speeding."

"Kinda?!"

"Well, I was trying to get to that guy's house in time to get the car."

"I don't believe this, Jackson!"

"Mel, calm down."

"Calm down?! How am I supposed to calm down?!"

"Can you please just come and get me?"

Melissa hung up.

I put the phone back onto the hook, following an officer to a holding cell.

________________________________________________________________________

I sat in the holding cell, my head in hands, thinking.

I'd messed up Dallas's birthday. There'd be no party. He wouldn't get his car.

How would he ever forgive me? He wouldn't.

I sighed, taking my head from my hands, and looked around the cell.

One guy stood by the bars, yelling out. "I didn't do nothing! Let me out!"

A couple other guys were standing around the cell. One sat near me on a bench. A muscular man leaned against the wall. A small kid of about seventeen years sat in the corner, his head in his knees.

I didn't know why, but the boy reminded me of Dallas, and of how I'd gotten thrown in jail on his birthday.

I rested my head back into my hands, wishing I was back home with Dallas and Melissa and everyone else, celebrating Dallas's special day.

*FLASHBACK*

_(28 years ago)_

I stared at the clock, counting down the seconds.

5...4...3...2...1...

"Yes!" I exclaimed loudly.

Now I'm seven years old.

All of a sudden, my father stumbled into my room. "Cody, didn't I tell you to go to school?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Go to school."

"Yes, sir." After a moment, I said, "Sir?"

"What, Cody?"

"Do you know what today is?"

"No, I don't."

I stared downward, disappointed. "Oh."

"What's today, Cody?"

I looked at him. "My birthday, sir."

He smiled. "Your birthday?"

I nodded proudly. "Yes, sir. I'm seven now."

"You know what that means, don't you?"

I thought for a moment. "No, sir."

He set his beer onto the dresser, then came toward me with am evil smirk. "It means you get seven birthday whoopings and a pinch to grow an inch."

*END FLASHBACK*

I thought I was done with these bad memories, but I guess not.

All of a sudden, the muscular guy pushed himself away from the wall and headed toward the teenager.

I watched him closely.

"Hey, kid?" he said.

The boy didn't move.

"Hey?!"

The teen stayed silent, his head still in his knees.

The muscular man lifted him into the air, the boy's feet kicking to get loose. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"Leave him alone," I said.

The man ignored me.

I stood up and headed toward him, grabbing his arm. "Leave him alone!"

The man dropped the kid, then turned toward me. "What did you say to me?"

"Look. He's just a kid. Why can't you pick on somebody your own size?"

"Like who?" he challenged.

"Me." I pushed him.

He stumbled, then came at me, ready to attack. He jumped, pushing me to the ground, and landed on top of me. The man began punching my face.

I punched him back. After a moment, I gathered all my strength, then slammed my fist against his jaw.

He rolled off me and onto the floor.

I got on him, slugging him in the face.

He tried to block my fists, but to no avail. Finding only one way out, the muscular guy kneed my lower stomach.

I fell onto my side, doubled up in pain.

The man got on top of me, punching.

I tried to hit back, but my hands were pinned to the ground by another man.

Everyone rushed over, wanting to get in on the fun. They kicked and punched violently.

I looked past them to the teenage boy.

He was pulling on the muscular man's shoulders. "Stop it! Get off if him!"

The man pushed him.

The boy fell to the ground, tears in his eyes. "Leave him alone!"

The guy on top of me kneed my lower stomach.

I yelped in pain.

*FLASHBACK*

_(28 years ago)_

"Ahhh! Stop it!"

The monsters were crowded around me, punching and kicking.

"Daddy!" I called as loud as I could. "Please, come help me, sir!"

I was thrown onto the steps, which stabbed into my ribs.

Ignoring the pain, I hurried up the stairs. I banged my little fists against the door. "Sir, please let me out!" I turned, seeing the monsters heading up the steps. "Sir, please! Help me! They're coming!"

The door never opened.

I watched the monsters coming slowly toward me, smiles on their faces.

I hit the door some more. "Daddy! I'm scared! Help me! Please! Don't let them do this to me! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, sir! I'm sorry! I won't-ahhh!" My chin slammed against the top step as the monsters grabbed my ankle.

They pulled me toward them.

*END FLASHBACK*

The muscular man stood up, then spat in my face. "You're no better at fighting than the kid." He laughed.

I lay there, coughing blood. I let the darkness take over.


	21. Monster From The Cellar

"Sir?"

My shoulder shook.

"Sir, wake up."

My eyes opened slowly. I looked up to see the teenager.

I forced myself into a sitting position, coughing. Then I pushed myself up and walked slowly toward the bench, where I leaned my head against the wall.

The teen followed me, taking a seat next to me. He watched me closely.

After a while I looked at him. "What?"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"I'm Dustin." He grabbed my hand, shaking it, but quickly stopped when I winced.

"Jackson," I said. I leaned forward, putting my head in my hands.

After a while of silence, I heard the muscular man's voice. "Look, everyone. It's Robbie's unwanted property."

Everyone laughed.

I clenched my teeth together.

I figured they'd seen my arms while I was beaten.

"So tell me. Are you Robbie's b****?"

A single tear escaped my eye, landing in front of me.

I stared at it.

"Aww. Look, guys," the man said in a baby voice. "He's crying. Or should I say 'she?'"

The room erupted with laughter.

The man walked toward me and Dustin. "Move over, kid."

The teen quickly obeyed, leaving my side.

The man sat down next to me, putting his arm around my back.

I winced.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. I used to know a man named Robbie…" His voice trailed off. Quietly, as if to himself, he finished. "…who would always beat his son." He quickly grabbed my chin, pulling my head up to face him, and studied me. "Cody?!"

I was silent.

"It's me: Jeff. Remember?"

I did.

He was one of the monsters that lived in the closet.

"How ya been, Cody?"

"Why do you care?"

He slapped my face hard.

"That's not how your father raised you."

"Well, it doesn't matter how my father raised me anymore."

"Oh, really? And why is that?"

"'Cause he's dead."

Jeff pushed me off the edge of the bench.

I hit the floor then looked up at him. "What the h*** did you do that for?!"

He was quiet for a moment. "He's really dead?"

I nodded.

"How?"

"He shot himself."

"What?!" He sat down on the bench.

I didn't say anything more, just sat there.

________________________________________________________________________

I rested my head against the wall, sitting in the corner of the cell.

Dustin's parents had gotten him out a couple of hours ago on bail.

I just hope Melissa would come get me. I knew it'd take a while to get a bondsman and sign papers, but I didn't think it'd take this long.

Maybe she wasn't coming.

The room was eerily silent after what I'd said about my father. No one wanted to speak, too scared they'd see another of Jeff's outbursts.

Jeff sat on the bench, his head in his hands.

________________________________________________________________________

"Cody Jackson, you're free to go."

I pushed myself to my feet, still sore. I headed toward the cell door as the officer opened it.

Before I could step out, Jeff spoke. "Cody, wait!"

I turned to him.

"I'm sorry about those things I did to you when you were little." When I didn't speak, he asked, "Do you forgive me?"

Before I followed the officer down the hall, I answered truthfully. "I don't know, Jeff."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Jackson!"

"Mel!" I pulled her into a tight embrace.

After we pulled apart, her happiness disappeared. "Jackson, what were you thinking?!"

"Mel, I'm sorry. I was trying to get to that guy's house in time."

"We'll talk about this later."

"Okay, Mel." I followed her to Nathan's car.

"Hey, Jackson." He looked at me. "Woah! What happened?!"

"Oh, uh, just a small problem with a guy picking on a kid. I fixed it through."

"Yeah," Nathan said. "Sure does look like it."

"Look. I handled it, alright?"

"Yeah. Whatever."


	22. Spoiled Milk

"Dally, please open the door."

I've been trying to get him to let me in the room for at least fifteen minutes now.

I was sitting on the floor, my back against the door. "C'mon, Dally. Please. I'm sorry."

He ignored me.

"Will you please let me in?"

There was no answer.

"Dally, I'm sorry. I really messed up."

After a minute, I fell onto my back. I looked up to see Dallas.

"You sure did," he said.

I quickly pushed myself up, still a little sore from earlier. "Dally, I'm really, really sorry. I feel terrible."

"You should." After a moment, he said, "Dad, you ruin everything."

"I'm really sorry, Dally. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"No! You've done enough. I don't want anything else from you."

"Dally, I-"

The door shut.

I turned around. Unable to move, I slid my back down the door, putting my head in my knees.

________________________________________________________________________

My head hit the floor.

I rubbed my eyes, yawning.

I looked up to see Dallas.

"Dallas?" I said, still not fully awake.

He ignored me, stepping over me and into the kitchen.

After a while, I pushed myself up and followed him.

Melissa passed Dallas a plate, then took one for herself. She took a seat.

"Morning," I said.

There was no reply.

I bent down to give Melissa a kiss.

She grabbed her plate and glass and took a seat on the couch, Dallas following behind her.

I was hurt.

I walked over to the stove and looked to see what Melissa had cooked this morning.

There was nothing in the pot, no food on the pan.

I looked over to her.

She sat, staring blankly at the TV.

I sighed, opening a cabinet, and pulled out some cereal. Looking through another cabinet, I found a bowl. Then I searched through the refrigerator for milk.

When I found it, I carried it to the counter, then set it down.

I opened the box of cereal, tilting it.

There was only enough to fill the bowl halfway.

I tossed the box into the garbage can, then picked up the milk, unscrewing the cap. I poured it into the bowl, then dropped the empty jug into the trash can.

I got a spoon from the drawer, then took a seat at the table.

My head rested in one hand, while my other hand dipped the silverware into the bowl, then brought a spoonful to my mouth, chewing.

All of a sudden, I spit it out, coughing.

I heard Dallas and Melissa giggle.

"That milk is over a month old," Melissa said.

"Then what was it doing in the refrigerator?"

"Waiting for you to drink it."

Melissa and Dallas broke into laughter.

I laughed to. "So does that mean you forgive me?" I blurted hopefully.

They immediately went quiet, turning their attention to the television screen.

I sighed, then cleaned up my mess.

When I was finished, I grabbed the keys from the counter and headed out the door.

________________________________________________________________________

I drove down the highway, heading home. Then I remembered that I was supposed to meet Daley for counseling.

I turned on the radio, cruising down the road.

________________________________________________________________________

"Hey, Daley. Sorry I'm late. I forgot."

"That's okay. Come on in."

I stepped inside, then followed Daley up the stairs and down the long hallway, into the last room.

I took a seat on the couch, Daley sitting across from me.

"So Jackson? What's been up?"

"I don't know." I sighed. "Nothing really."

"What about Melissa and Dallas?"

"Well, they hate me."

"Did you talk to them?"

"I tried. I even fell asleep on the floor outside DJ's room. But now I gotta sleep on the couch."

"So when do you have to go to court?"

"Tomorrow, at nine." I reached into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet. "I almost forgot. Here's you money back. And Nathan's, too."

"It's okay, Jackson. You can-"

"No, Daley. Take it."

She hesitated before grabbing it. "Thanks."

The alarm went off.

"See ya later, Daley."

"Bye."


	23. The Locked Door To Jail

I woke up, yawning.

I lifted myself from the couch and stretched. Then I headed into the kitchen.

I pulled some orange juice from the refrigerator, then headed toward a cabinet, grabbing a glass.

I unscrewed the cap on the orange juice and began pouring.

My eyes wandered around the room, landing on the clock.

8:17.

"S***!" I quickly set the jug down and ran into Melissa's room.

I turned the knob and pushed, running into the door.

"Mel?!" I banged my fist against it. "Are you awake?! Mel, let me in!"

There was no answer.

"C'mon on, Mel. Open the door!"

She didn't respond.

"Please, Mel! I'm gonna be late!" After a while, I gave up. "D***it!"

I headed into the kitchen, grabbing something, and hurried back to the room. I picked the lock and rushed inside.

Melissa lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling. She noticed me and looked at me. "Morning, Jackson."

I stared at her, quiet.

Why didn't she open the door?

After a long silence, Melissa spoke. "Aren't you gonna be late?"

I broke into a run, heading toward the closet.

I looked through the clothes, pulling out the nicest t-shirt I could find since I didn't own any suits.

I left the room and went into the bathroom, changing my clothes.

Then I rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the keys, running to the car. I jumped inside the car, turning the ignition.

Nothing happened.

I tried again.

It didn't crank.

I slammed my arms into the steering wheel. "S***!"

I looked at the gas gauge.

It was on empty.

I stepped out of the car and walked into the house.

Melissa was standing by the stove. When she heard the screen door slam shut, she looked over at me. "Aren't you supposed to be at court?"

"Yeah."

When I didn't say more, she said, "And why aren't you?"

"The car."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Out of gas."

Melissa was silent. She turned back to the stove.

I was quiet for a while, thinking.

I knew I'd be thrown into jail again. And we couldn't afford to pay bond.

"D***it!" I slammed my fist onto the table.

Melissa flinched.

There was more silence, then I said, "Mel, you don't have to pay bond. I'll stay."

She looked to me. "What are you talking about, Jackson?"

"I'm gonna be thrown in jail again for contempt of court. I'll just stay there this time, just to be sure I make it to court next time."

She turned back to the stove, then flipped a pancake. "Fine with me."


	24. Monster In The Cell

I stepped into the cell.

I'd been in a holding cell for a while, but since I was going to stay in jail until court, they moved me here.

I slipped my hands through a small opening between the bars.

The officer unlocked the handcuffs from my wrists, then walked down the hall.

I put my hands back into the cell, sighing.

"Cody?!"

I turned around. "Jeff?!"

"Just couldn't stay away, could ya?"

"Uh…"

"Always getting into trouble, huh? Just like you father."

"I am nothing like my father," I said coldly.

"Whatever. So what have you been up to?"

"None of your business."

In one quick motion, Jeff got off the bed and slapped my face. "Don't talk to me like that! You understand?"

I stared at him, our heads centimeters apart.

"You understand?!"

I was silent.

He grabbed the collar of my jumpsuit, pulling me past him and toward the bed.

I hit the floor, my ribs hitting the bar on the side of the bunk.

"Get up."

I didn't move.

"Get up!"

I slowly pushed myself up.

"Come here." He pointed at the floor in front of him.

Hesitantly, I walked toward him, stopping in front of him. "What?" I spat.

He slapped me.

My head turned with his force, facing the wall.

He violently grabbed my chin, pulling my head toward him. His hand never left my chin, still holding it tightly. After a minute, his thumb caressed my lips. He leaned closer.

I pushed him away. "What the h*** are you doing, Jeff?!"

"Come here, Cody!" He came at me.

I punched him. "What's your f***ing problem?!"

He was on the floor, holding his nose.

I turned, heading up the ladder, disgusted.

As I was about to pull myself on the top bunk, Jeff grabbed my ankle and pulled.

I fell to the floor.

Jeff picked me up by my jumpsuit and threw me against the wall, holding me there.

I punched wildly, trying to get free.

Jeff slugged my lower stomach. When I doubled over in pain, he kneed my face hard, then threw me behind him.

I hit the floor. I heard Jeff laughing. When I looked up dizzily, I saw three Jeffs.

They walked toward me, each one with a smile on his face.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight a couple times, trying to clear my vision. When I looked back up, I saw only one Jeff.

All of a sudden, I felt his weight on top of me.

I tried push him off. "Leave me alone! Get off me!"

He put his hand on my cheek, rubbing it with his thumb.

"D***it, Jeff! Get the f*** off me!" I punched and punched, to no avail.

"I want you to beg, like you begged your father."

I was quiet, trying to push him away.

"Beg!" His free hand slid down my body, rubbing my hip. I felt his breath on my neck.

"Jeff-"

"That's not what you called you father, was it?" His lips were touching my neck.

I was desperate. "Sir, please! Don't do this to me! Please, let me go! I'll do anything! Stop, sir! Please!" I was in tears now. I felt like I was six.

His lips inched closer to my cheek. "You gotta do better than that, Cody."

I couldn't speak, sobbing uncontrollably. I turned my head away from his lips, giving up, waiting for the worst. After a minute, I managed to say, "Why are you doing this to me?"

He didn't answer, just kept nibbling on my neck.

I tried to block out what was happening as he began to unzip my jumpsuit.

All of a sudden, my chest felt light.


	25. Wrong Voice

"Jackson? You okay?"

A hand touched my shoulder.

I jumped, leaning far against the door of his car, startled. I tried to keep my voice calm. "Thank you for coming to get me, Nathan."

"No problem. Melissa told me you were in jail and that she wasn't gonna get you, so I came. I put up a property bond, so make sure you go to court Tuesday, or I'll loose my house."

"I will. Do you think you could take me? There's no gas in me and Mel's car."

"Yeah. What time?"

"Nine."

"Okay."

There was a long silence.

I was trying to control my trembling, trying to stop the tears.

Nathan glanced at me. "Jackson, what happened to you?"

I broke down again. I looked at him. Shakily, I said, "Nathan? I need to talk to Daley."

* * *

I sat on the couch, my head in my hands, my leg jumping up and down. The tears were falling uncontrollably. I was shaking madly.

How was I supposed to tell Daley this? I couldn't tell her. I couldn't tell anyone. What am I doing here? I can't do this.

I got up to leave.

Just as I reached for the knob, Daley stepped inside. "Sorry I'm late. I had to get my notebook. Then I couldn't find…" She trailed off when she looked at me. "Jackson, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Daley. I can't do this."

"Yes, you can, Jackson. C'mon. Tell me." She pulled my arm, leading me to the couch.

I took a seat.

"Jackson, you know you can trust me."

I sighed, then began telling her everything that that happened to me while I was in jail.

* * *

"A cop pulled him off me just in time, or else I would've been…" I trailed off.

"Jackson, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. Me, too." I broke down, shaking and sobbing.

Daley took a seat next to me, comforting me. She wrapped her arms around me, rubbing my back.

I cried into her shoulder for a long while.

After several minutes, I said, "I love you, Daley."

She didn't respond.

But someone else did. "What?!"


	26. Just A Friend

I ran out the door. "Mel, please wait. I can explain."

She got into her car and turned the ignition.

I was standing outside the driver's side window. "Mel, I didn't mean that. I-"

"Jackson! Shut up!"

I did.

"I can't believe you. You have a wife. You have a son! You…I can't…I don't have anything to say to you, Jackson." With that, she pulled out of the driveway, heading off.

I called after her. "Melissa!"

* * *

Why did I say that?

I rested my head against the window, staring blankly at the passing cars.

After a while, the car turned, then came to a stop.

"Thanks for taking me home, Nathan."

"Any time."

I got out of the car and headed into the house, taking a deep breath.

Melissa was sitting next to Dallas at the table, angrily chewing her food. She glared at me when I stepped inside.

"Melissa, will you please let me explain?"

She got up and headed toward me.

I relaxed a bit, thinking she was finally going to listen to me.

All of a sudden, Melissa's fist made contact with my face.

I held my nose. "Mel, why'd you do that?!"

She didn't answer, just walked into the room and slammed the door shut.

I went to the door, knocking. "Mel, please let me explain."

"Go away!"

"Baby, I didn't mean it like that."

"Leave me alone!"

"Please open the door, Mel."

"I don't wanna talk to you!"

I was getting frustrated. I banged my fists against the door. "D***it, Mel! Open the f***ing door!"

She was sobbing now.

I sighed. "Mel, I'm sorry. I wasn't…I…I didn't…" I gave up, taking a seat on the couch.

All of a sudden, I slammed my palm against the coffee table. "D***it!"

* * *

"Jackson?"

"Daley, we need to talk."

"Sure. Come on in."

I followed her into the living room, then took a seat. "Daley, I just wanna make sure you know that I didn't mean what I said." I thought for a moment. "I mean, I did mean it. I do love you-but as a friend…just a friend."

"I know that, Jackson."

"So…we're cool?"

"Absolutely."

I sighed. "Good. Well, I gotta go. See ya, Daley."

"Bye."


	27. Falling To The Floor

"You've been caught speeding four times?! And you got two DUIs?!"

"Yeah. But that was a long time ago, Nathan."

"Wow! You never told me."

"You never asked."

Nathan pulled the car out of the parking lot of court.

I'd had to pay a fine of thirteen hundred dollars. My license were suspended for a year.

"Nathan?"

"Yeah."

"Could you do me a favor?"

* * *

"Dad? What is this?"

"Happy birthday, DJ. Uh…late birthday, that is."

"You mean…this is mine?"

"Yeah."

Dallas walked toward the old car, excited.

I'd bought it from the guy that I was on my way to get it from on the day that I was arrested. Then I'd fixed it up for Dallas.

"Thanks, Dad!"

"It's also from your mother."

Melissa stepped out of the house, her arms crossed.

"Thanks, Mom," Dallas called to her.

I avoided Melissa's eyes.

After a while, she walked back into the house.

"Jackson, I gotta go," Nathan said.

I headed toward Nathan. "Thanks, man."

"No problem. See ya, Jackson."

"Bye."

"Bye, Dallas," he called.

"Bye, Mr. McHugh," Dallas responded.

* * *

I lay on the couch, tossing and turning.

After a while, I fell into the floor.

"Who would've thought?" I mumbled to myself. "The floor's more comfortable than the couch."

All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Jackson, honey? Come on into the bedroom." Melissa helped me to my feet. "I never gave you a chance to explain. Daley called earlier and-"

"Daley told you what happened?"

"Yeah."

"All of it?"

Melissa nodded. "I'm so sorry, Jackson. I shouldn't have let you stay in jail. It's all my fault."

"No, it's not, Mel."

She pulled me into a hug, tears streaming from her eyes.

I held on to her tightly. I couldn't keep the tears from falling. "Mel, I was so scared."

"I know, Jackson. I know." She rubbed my back.

"I'm so sorry, Mel. I'm sorry. I'm trying to do the right thing. I really am. But I…don't know how."


	28. Unwanted

"DJ, it's time for school."

Dallas quickly sat up.

I stepped out of the room as he rushed to pick out his clothes. I took a seat at the kitchen table.

Melissa was at the stove, cooking. "Morning, honey." She walked toward, giving me a kiss.

I jumped, startled, thinking about Jeff.

She quickly stopped. "Sorry."

I exhaled shakily.

"Bye." Dallas headed out the door.

"Aren't you gonna eat your breakfast?" Melissa said.

"No. I don't wanna be late."

Melissa and I exchanged glances.

* * *

"What?!"

"Mel, what's wrong?" I said from the couch.

"Okay. Thanks." Melissa hung up the phone, then turned to me. "Dallas's principal called. He hasn't been up to school in a week: ever since…"

"Ever since he got the car," I finished for her.

She nodded.

"I'll talk to him, Mel."

"But he doesn't listen to you, Jackson. He doesn't respect you."

I looked down. "You're right. But I'm trying-"

"Well that doesn't seem to be working for you, does it, Jackson?"

I sighed. "No."

"Exactly, Jackson. You're always trying. Why can't you actually do something for once?!"

"What am I supposed to do, Mel?!"

"Get him to listen to you!"

"I'm-"

"Trying?"

"I was gonna say, 'working on it.'"

She chuckled angrily, then stormed into the bedroom.

Melissa and I were arguing more than usual these days.

* * *

I sat on the couch, waiting for Dallas to come home.

It was thirty minutes past midnight.

Melissa lay asleep in bed.

I got up and grabbed the keys from the counter, then quickly put them back down.

My license were suspended.

"S***!" I thought for a moment, then stepped out into the cold, dark night.

I headed down the street.

Where would Dallas be?

* * *

It had started to rain.

I'd been walking for at least twenty minutes. I was just about to head back when I heard faint music. I followed the sound.

I found myself in front of a house, music blaring from inside. I looked around the yard, spotting Dallas's car.

I sighed, then headed inside.

Teenagers were everywhere. They danced and talked.

I squeezed my way through the crowd, searching.

After a while, I headed upstairs.

I opened a couple doors, checking inside, until I finally found Dallas.

He lay on top of Angela, resting his head on her chest, breathing heavily.

"Dallas, get in the car."

"Dad?! What are you doing here?!"

"Get in the car, Dallas!"

He got out of the bed, zipping his pants, then headed downstairs and outside.

I followed behind him.

He stumbled through the grass, drunk. He fell to the ground.

I helped him up and into the car, putting him into the passenger's seat. I buckled him up, then headed to the other side of the car and got in.

I sat there for a minute.

There was total silence until I broke it. "How many times have you two had sex?"

"What?! I-"

"How many, Dallas?!"

After a moment, he answered. "Three."

I was silent, then unexpectedly hit my fist against the dash. "S***!"

I started the car and headed home, careful not to be stopped my a cop since my license were suspended.

* * *

Dallas got out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and headed into the house.

I walked inside after him.

He went into his room and shut the door.

I pushed it open and stepped inside. "Give me the car keys."

"It's my car!"

"You're my son. Give me the keys."

"No."

"Dallas, give me the keys."

"No!"

"Give me the keys, Dallas!"

He threw the keys at me. "Why do you hate me so much, Dad?!"

*FLASHBACK*

_(28 years ago)_

"Sir, please stop!"

"Shut up, Cody!" My father punched and slapped. After a while, he threw me to the floor.

I tried to crawl away. "I'm sorry, sir! Please! It won't happen again! I promise!"

He picked me up again, throwing me into the kitchen.

I hit the table, which flipped over with me.

My father kicked me a couple times, then threw me toward the refrigerator.

When I landed on the floor, I looked up.

My father stumbled toward me slowly.

I pushed myself backwards, coming to a halt when my back touched the wall.

I panicked.

I quickly stood up, running to the counter. I pulled myself up onto it.

There was a window directly in front of me.

I tried to push it open, to no avail.

I looked through the window.

There was a man walking his dog, wearing earphones in her ears.

I slammed my palms against the window. "Hey!" I yelled. "Help me! Please!"

He couldn't hear me.

"Help me!" I banged my fists against the glass. "Please!"

The man removed his earphones, looking around. He'd heard me!

I hit the window some more. "Sir, please! Help-"

Just as he turned his head toward me, my father pulled me off the counter.

I hit the floor.

He punched and punched. "What the f*** are you trying to do, Cody?! If I get in trouble, you will, too. They'll find out that you've been a bad boy. They'll punish you, Cody-even worse than I do. I'll tell them that you stole that jewelry from the cabinet in the jewelry store."

"But I didn't do it! You did!"

"Who do you think they'll believe, Cody?"

I was in tears now. "Why do you hate me so much, Dad?!"

He flipped me onto my stomach. He gripped my arm, bending it with every word. "Because you're just a lousy, unworthy, good-for-nothing mistake your mother made. That's why I hate you, Cody."

My arm snapped.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"

*END FLASHBACK*

"I don't hate you. I'm trying to keep you from messing your life up like I did mine. You can't keep doing this."

"Why does it matter if I have sex at sixteen?"

"Because, in case you haven't already done the math, you mother was only seventeen when she had you. She couldn't go to college, and I didn't have the money to. Take a look around you, Dallas. We're hardly making it. We can barely afford anything. Is this what you'd want for your kid?"

"So you're saying that, because of me, we live like this? It's my fault?"

"No. I'm saying that I don't want to see you screw your life up. I love you, Dallas."

"F*** you! I hate you!"

I was hurt by his words.

Without thinking, I punched him in the face.

He fell to the floor, holding his nose.

After I'd realized what I'd done, I said, "I'm sorry, Dallas. I'm so sorry. I-"

"Shut up and leave me alone!" He pushed himself up, shoved me out of his room, and slammed the door shut.

I was shaking madly, my hands trembling. I slid my back down on the wall. I rested my head in my knees. Tears fell down my cheeks.

What had I just done?

After a minute, Melissa stepped out of our room and went into Dallas's after hearing all the commotion. "Oh my gosh! Dallas, what happened?!"

"Dad hit me." His voice was shaking. He was crying.

Melissa came toward me and pulled me up. "Jackson, how could you?! I can't believe you! Look what you did!" She pushed my head to look at Dallas's face.

His nose was broken, his lip busted. The left side of his face was bruised.

"Dallas, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I-"

"Dad! Shut up! I'm never gonna forgive you for this! I hate you!"

Melissa tried to keep her voice calm. "I want you out of here, Jackson."

"Mel, I didn't-"

"Jackson, get out."

"But, Mel, I-"

"Get out."

"I-"

"Get out of here, Jackson! I never wanna see your face again!"

"Mel, you don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

"Mel, please don't do this to me. Please, Mel. I'm sorry. I'm really, really, really, really sorry."

"Leave!"

"I'll change, Mel." I was in tears now. "I promise I'll change. Please, Mel. I love you. I-"

"I don't love you, Jackson."

My voice was barely audible. "What?"

"Jackson, I don't love you."

I was silent for a long time.

I looked at Dallas, who was smirking. My eyes turned back to Melissa.

She stared at me, furious.

Before walking slowly past Melissa and into the pouring rain, I quietly said, "I'm sorry, guys. I didn't know I was so unwanted here."


	29. A Friend With A Towel

I walked down the street, my tears mixing with the rain.

I was soaked from head to toe.

I found myself in a park.

I headed toward the playground, climbing up. I took a seat under a small canopy, protecting myself from the rain. I leaned my head against the bars next to me, shivering

from the cold.

I should have grabbed a jacket before I'd left.

I sat there, crying myself to sleep.

* * *

"Mr. Jackson?"

I looked up, rubbing my eyes.

The sun was shining bright.

I squinted. "Amanda? Where's your parents?"

"Over there." She pointed to a bench across the park where Eric and Taylor sat.

I pushed myself up. "Thanks." I walked across a small wobbling bridge and jumped off at the opening to the monkey bars, heading toward Eric and Taylor, my hands in my pockets.

Taylor spotted me. "Jackson?!"

"Hey, guys."

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh....just walking."

"Why are you so wet?!" Eric asked.

"'Cause it was raining."

"Yeah," Taylor said. "Last night."

Suddenly Eric realized. "You stayed out here all night?!"

I nodded.

"Why?" Taylor asked.

"Because Mel kicked me out of the house."

"I'm sorry, Jackson."

"Do you guys have a phone with you?"

"I do." Taylor picked up her purse, rummaging through the many objects. After a while,

she said, "Eric, do you have it?"

"No. I set it on the counter for you to pick up."

"Well, I didn't pick it up." She looked at me. "Sorry, Jackson."

I sighed. "That's okay."

"But I have a quarter." Eric pulled some change from his back pocket, then handed me

one. "Here you go."

"Thanks." I walked to the other side of the park, heading toward a pay phone.

I put the quarter in, dialing a number.

After a minute, someone answered. "Hello?"

"Nathan? Can you come pick me up?"

"Jackson? Where are you?"

"The park."

"Why are you at the park?"

"I'll explain later. Can you please come get me?"

"Yeah. I'll be there in a minute."

"Thanks." I looked down at myself, soaked. "And, Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you bring a towel, please?"

Nathan was confused. "Uh, sure, Jackson."

"Thanks."

* * *

"Jackson, what were you doing at the park?" Daley asked, sitting in the driver's seat.

"Nothing," I said, sitting in the back, leaning my head against the window.

"And why are you wet?" Nathan said.

"It was raining."

"But that stopped this morning," he said.

I was silent.

Daley thought for a moment. "You slept in the park?!"

"What?!" exclaimed Nathan.

"Well, I had nowhere else to go."

"You could've came to our house." he said.

"I wasn't thinking straight," I said defensively.

We were quiet for a moment.

Then Daley spoke. "Did something happen, Jackson?"

I was quiet for a moment. A tear fell down my cheek. "I hit him."

"Who, Jackson? You hit who?"

My voice was barely above a whisper. "Dallas."


	30. Last Word Depression

Depressed, I sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, alcohol in hand.

It's been a week since I was kicked out by Melissa. I stayed in the guestroom at Nathan

and Daley's house now.

I took a swig from the bottle.

Maybe I was like my father. Maybe that wasn't so bad.

I'd just gotten divorce papers in the mail this morning.

I pushed myself off the floor and stumbled into the bathroom.

I set the bottle onto the counter, then opened the medicine cabinet, looking inside.

I pulled out a bottle of Advil, then poured several into my mouth. I picked up the alcohol, pouring some in after the pills. I swallowed.

I set the alcohol back down, looking at myself in the mirror, staring at what I've become.

I pulled up my shirt sleeve, staring at my arms.

Along with what my father had written, there were several other things.

I read each and every one.

When I was finished, I pulled my father's pocket knife from my back pocket, then poked it into one of my arms.

I began writing.

When I was finished, I picked up the bottle of alcohol and poured it onto the cuts.

After that, I pulled a liter and cigarette from my pocket.

I put the cigarette into my mouth and flicked the liter. I brought the flame closer to me until the cigarette finally lit.

I set the liter onto the counter, taking a few puffs of the cigarette.

After a few minutes, I pulled the cigarette out of my mouth and put it to my skin.

* * *

I sat at the foot of the bed, taking a huge gulp from the bottle in my hands.

I set the alcohol onto the floor next to me, then looked at my arms.

Under where my father had written "_Robbie's unwanted property_" was another mark. It read, "_Melissa and Dallas's unwanted ***hole_."

* * *

"Jackson?" Nathan shook my shoulder. "Jackson, get up."

I groaned, shrugging him off. "Leave me alone, Nathan. Let me sleep."

"It's four o'clock in the afternoon. You haven't eaten at all today. You haven't even been out of this room since you got here over a week ago."

I didn't respond.

"Jackson, I'm not messing around! Get up!"

I pushed myself into a sitting position "Fine, Nathan! I'm up! What do you want?!"

He looked at me. After a minute, he said, "Why are you doing this to yourself, Jackson?"

I was silent.

"Answer me!"

"Because, Nathan!" I yelled. "I have nothing left to live for. My son hates me. Melissa kicked me out. Without them, I have nothing. I am nothing. I love them, Nathan."

"Yeah?"

I nodded.

"Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it." He headed toward the door. "Get dressed."

"I don't have any clothes."

I've been wearing the same thing every day for the past week.

He was irritated. "Well, get up and get your a** downstairs."

* * *

"Nathan, where are we going?"

He pulled the car into a driveway.

I looked at the house. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Let's go."

I didn't move.

"Get out of the car, Jackson!"

I did, pushing the door open angrily.

I followed Nathan onto the porch. "Nathan, can I please wait here?"

He opened the screen, knocking on the door. "Sure, Jackson."

Melissa opened the door. She didn't see me. "Hey, Nathan."

Dallas stood behind her.

"I need to get Jackson's clothes."

"There all right there." Melissa pointed to a small pile beside the door.

Nathan stepped into the house, then stared at the clothes. He looked at Melissa. "Is this

for real?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you two seriously over?"

Her answer was simple. "Yes."

"After all he's done for you?"

"He hasn't done s*** for me, Nathan!"

"Yes, he has. He's done everything for you. He's always trying to please you. He hides his pain from you because he knows you'll be hurt or stressed out. He doesn't want that. You remember when Jackson burnt his arm, but refused to go to a hospital? That was because he knew you didn't have enough money to pay for a hospital bill. And that time he borrowed money from me? He'd tried to get a job. We went around town for hours. But no one would hire him after the background checks. He didn't want you to be upset. He gave up his dream for you and Dallas." He looked at the boy. "And Dallas? Your father wants you to have a great life. He messed his up when he was a teenager. He doesn't want that for you. He doesn't hate you. He just doesn't know how to get you to respect him and talk to him. He loves you guys. How could you kick him out after all he's done for you?! After all he's going through?!"

Dallas's voice was quiet as he looked at Melissa. "What's he talking about, Mom?" He didn't know what I'd been through-about my father.

"You haven't told him, Mel?! I can't believe-"

"Nathan!" I appeared in the doorway.

Melissa gasped at my appearance.

Dallas stared at me, shocked. "Dad?!"

"Nathan?" I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Can you please stop yelling at them?"

I hated when people were yelled at. It reminded me of my father.

Nathan looked at me.

"It's not their fault. They're right. I don't deserve to have them as my family."

Everyone was staring at me.

"Nathan, can we just go? Please."

He eyed me for a moment, then picked my clothes up and headed out the door.

I looked at Melissa and Dallas. "I'm sorry, guys. For everything. And, if you never wanna see me again, consider it done. I'll sign the divorce papers. I just want you to be happy." I could taste salt on my lips. I barely managed to say the last word through my tears. "Bye."


	31. My Father's Pocket Knife

I grasped the picture frame in my hands, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. I stared at it.

It was taken on me and Melissa's wedding day sixteen years ago. It was when we kissed.

A tear fell from my face, landing on my eye in the picture, forever trapped with my own pain.

I quickly flipped the frame over in my hands, opening the back. I pulled the picture out

and ripped it in half, separating our lips.

I threw everything onto the floor, then picked up the bottle that was next to me.

I couldn't get myself to drink it.

Frustrated, I threw it against the wall. "D***it!"

The glass shattered, alcohol splattering all over the room.

I grabbed the divorce papers and a pen sitting next to me on the floor.

I clicked the pen, then put it to the paper.

I began writing slowly. "_Cody Jackso_-"

"Jackson, wait!"

I looked up. "Melissa?!"

"Jackson, I'm sorry. I didn't know you gave all that stuff up for me and Dallas. I shouldn't have kicked you out. I was mean. I'm so sorry. I don't want a divorce."

"But you don't love me."

"Yes, I do. But I was angry at you. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to repay you for all the things you've done to hurt me and Dallas."

"I'm sorry, Melissa."

"I'm sorry, too." She plopped onto the floor beside me and pulled me into a hug.

I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her tight, making sure this was real.

It was.

Tears fell from my eyes.

"Dad, what's that on your arms?" Dallas was standing in the doorway.

Melissa slowly broke away from me and grasped my arms. She gasped. A tear fell from

her eye as she read the most recent one.

"I'm so sorry, Melissa. I shouldn't have done it. I wasn't thinking straight. I..." Tears fell uncontrollably down my cheeks as I realized something.

I will be stuck with this scar for the rest of my life.

"I'm so sorry, Melissa. I...I'm sorry." I pushed myself up, heading into the bathroom.

Melissa pulled my arm, stopping me. "Jackson, you need some help. I can help you."

"We can help you," Nathan spoke up, startling me.

I looked up to see Nathan, along with the rest of the gang.

I wiped the tears away. "I'm sorry, guys."

"No!" It was Dallas.

I expected him to yell at me.

H continued. "I'm sorry. The reason I was so mean to you was because I saw that thing on your arm, and I thought it was about me." A tear fell down his cheek. "But Mom told me this morning about…" He trailed off and ran toward me. "I'm so sorry, Dad."

I pulled him into a hug. "It's okay, baby. It's okay."

After we pulled apart, Melissa grasped my hand. "Jackson?"

"Yes, Melissa?"

"Will you come back and live with us again?"

"I'd love to, Mel."

* * *

I sighed shakily, pulling my father's knife from my back pocket.

I stared at it, then at my arms.

The scars would be there for the rest of my life. I'd have to live with these mistakes…these bad memories…this horrible past.

But right now…in the present, I have to have hope for the future.

I felt Melissa's arm around my back, Dallas's hand in mine.

Melissa kissed my cheek, reassuring me.

I stretched my arm out in front of me, gripping the knife tightly. I closed my eyes, having second thoughts.

Should I do this?

I have to.

Melissa and Dallas want me to.

And so do I.

I loosened my fingers.

The knife fell from my hand, landing into the garbage can.

I couldn't do this.

I quickly reached into the bottom of the trash.

Melissa and Dallas held me back.

I tried to get free but couldn't. I gave up, falling back onto the seat behind me.

Dallas squeezed my hand, congratulating me.

A tear fell from my eye.

It took me a second to realize that I'd made the right choice.


	32. Happy Birthday

We sat at the table, eating the breakfast that I'd made.

"Happy birthday, Dad."

"Thanks, DJ.

Melissa leaned over the table, giving me a kiss. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Mel. So how do you guys like the breakfast?"

"It tastes great," said Dallas, spitting his oatmeal into his napkin.

"Except the toast is burnt," Melissa said.

I picked up a piece and flung it at her.

She laughed, taking a bite of it.

I could hear it crunching in her mouth.

We ate together, talking and laughing with each other.

* * *

"That was a wonderful breakfast," Melissa said, putting the dishes into the sink.

Dallas helped her.

"Thanks, guys." I picked up a few plates, but was stopped by Melissa.

"You can't do the dishes on your birthday."

"It's not my birthday yet. I have…" I looked at the clock. 7:39. "…four minutes."

"Oh well. You still can't do the dishes."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so. So sit down."

"Yes, sir." I saluted.

She smiled, taking the plates from me, and headed toward the sink. "And, plus, if you do the dishes worse than you cook, we might end up with a broken sink."

I chuckled.

I sat down on the chair, watching them.

Melissa was so beautiful. She was a wonderful person, although she could be a bit too grouchy.

Dallas talked to me now, telling me all about school and any problem he had. He listened to me more, but occasionally disobeyed.

But I didn't care about their flaws. I've made mistakes, too… a lot of them.

And I'm very thankful that they'd forgiven me.

All of a sudden, the door was busted down.

Melissa dropped the plates, startled.

The glass shattered.

A teenager of about eighteen years stepped through the door.

I could tell this guy was in a gang. I knew because I used to be in one when I was a teen.

I stood up.

"Kell?!" Dallas said. "What are you doing here?!"

"I'm doing what we talked about two weeks ago. I'm gonna kill your father."

I looked at Dallas.

"I was kidding," Dallas said nervously.

"Were you?" I said.

He sighed. "I was mad at you. But I'm not anymore. I know I was wrong." He looked at Kell. "I don't want that anymore."

"It's too late." Kell came at me unexpectedly and punched my jaw. Without giving me time to respond, he hit some more.

I fell onto the floor.

He kicked my side several times.

Melissa jumped onto his back, trying to stop him.

I slowly pushed myself up, grabbing a knife as Kell threw Melissa to the floor.

"Don't touch her!" I yelled.

He smirked.

I'd made a mistake. I'd told him my weak spot.

"Put the knife down and get on your knees," he commanded. When I didn't, he pulled a gun from his waistband, pointing it at Melissa. He moved his finger toward the trigger.

"Wait! Don't!" I dropped the knife onto the table and fell to my knees, putting my hands up to show that I'd surrendered. "I'm on my knees! Please don't hurt her!"

He smiled as he slowly turned the gun toward me.

"Kell, don't!"

"Shut up, Dallas!"

"Leave him alone!" he said.

"Shut up, Dallas!" Kell shot the gun toward the wall threateningly, stepping closer.

Melissa screamed.

I didn't like seeing her so scared. "Mel, it'll be okay."

I felt the gun touch my head.

"It won't be for you." Kell pushed the gun into my temple.

My breathing was shaky. I tilted my head away from the gun.

Dallas was in tears. "Dad, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"It's okay, Dallas. I forgive you."

Melissa was sobbing uncontrollably. "Don't shoot him! Ple-e-ease!" She could barely say the words through her tears.

"Mel, I promise. It's gonna be alright. Please look at me." When she did, a tear fell from my eye. I tried to stay strong. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Jackson."

"Kell, stop!" Dallas said. "Please! Don't do this!"

Kell moved his finger toward the trigger.

"Wait!" Dallas ran toward me, pulling me into a hug. "Dad, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." Tears streamed down his face.

I slowly wrapped my arms around him, shaking. "It's okay, Dallas." I held him tightly. "Take care of your mom for me, okay?"

"I will."

"I love you, Dallas."

"I love you, too, Dad."

"Enough!" Kell yelled.

"Go take your mother into the bedroom, okay, Dallas?"

"Don't leave me, Dad."

"I'll always be with you, Dallas. Always." I kissed his forehead.

He slowly stood up, pulling Melissa to her feet and leading her into the room.

"Jackson!" she yelled. "Jackson, I love you!"

"I love you, too, Mel."

Kell kicked my lower stomach.

"Ahhhh!" I bent over, my head on the floor.

Melissa screamed.

"Come on, Mom!" Dallas pulled her into his bedroom.

I could hear Melissa crying.

Kell kicked my side.

"Ahhh!"

He kicked some more, enjoying the pain he caused me. His foot made contact with my lower stomach.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" I lay on the floor, clutching my stomach, coughing up blood.

With each of my screams, I heard Melissa shriek.

My eyes moved toward the clock. There were ten more seconds until my birthday.

I received more blows all over my body. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.


	33. Acoustic Guitar With No Future

I softly strummed the acoustic guitar in my hands, watching Dallas, my mother sitting next to me, her arm around my shoulder.

Dallas was twenty-three now. He held a one year old boy in his arms.

The boy's name was Cody Joel Jackson Jr.

Angela stood next to him, her arm around his shoulder, a wedding band on her finger. She was the same age as Dallas.

Melissa was by Dallas's other side, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight. She was forty.

Nathan was next to her, his hair bushier than ever. He was forty-one. He held on to Daley tightly.

She was also forty-one. She squeezed Matt's hand.

Matt was twenty-one. His hair was growing to look like his father's.

Next to him stood thirty-six year old Lex. He was the manager of a business that manufactured airplanes.

Holding Lex's hand was Mandy, his wife. She is the same age as he is.

Standing between Lex and Mandy was their thirteen year old son Dalton.

Amanda stood, her hair flowing with the early October breeze. She was twenty-two.

Max let his sister lean on him. He was nineteen.

Eric wore his straw hat. He is forty-one. He held onto Taylor.

She was forty. A single tear fell down her cheek.

Each person stared at the tombstone, which read, "_Cody Jackson. October 4, 1974, 7:43 A.M.-October 4, 2009, 7:43 A.M. A beloved husband, father, and friend_."

* * *

_Thanks to all of my readers, especially jelissalover, adversary2113, gIRL-wHO-lIKES-wIZARDS, WOODLAWNIAN, disneyqueen, and twilight fan._


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